


In His Place (Take Me)

by messandahalf



Series: The Darkness Within (Trilogy) [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, King Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Language, Minor Violence, POV Alternating, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Merlin (Merlin), Temporary Character Death, it hasn’t been publicly announced but everyone knows about it anyway, or more a hopeful ending, this one will be happier than the first one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26178463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messandahalf/pseuds/messandahalf
Summary: Merlin keeps his steadily returning magic a secret, helping the citizens of Camelot thrive and flourish without them ever knowing. As his power continues to grow, he struggles with the decision to stay with the people he loves, or leave to keep them safe. Can one decision redeem himself, redeem magic itself, in the eyes of all those in Camelot?
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: The Darkness Within (Trilogy) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783210
Comments: 44
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

Something tingles at the back of Arthur's mind, making him blink awake with a grunt. He surveys the immediate part of the room that he can see, but sees nothing amiss. He turns onto his back to shift his eyes around the rest of the room, and that's when he sees Merlin, leaning heavily against the wall next to the door. Merlin lifts his head, blinking owlishly at Arthur for a moment before his shoulders sag. As he steps away from the wall, moving toward the table, Arthur notices the bag slung over his shoulder.

Frowning, Arthur mumbles, "Going somewhere?" His voice is thick and heavy with sleep, and he idly wonders what time it is. The light peeking in between the drawn curtains is soft and weak. It's still early. Much too early for Merlin to be out of bed, and preparing to go somewhere.

Merlin opens his mouth to reply, but shuts it soon after when he realizes that he doesn't really have anything to say. This hadn't been the first time that he had snuck out of bed in the early hours of the morning, intent on leaving, but it had been the first time that he had ever been caught.

Finally, sighing heavily, he replies, "No." He lets the bag slide from his shoulder to rest on the floor as Arthur sits up in bed. He blinks blearily as he tries to focus his eyes and his mind well enough to look Merlin over. The man's dark hair is disheveled, like he's been running nervous and worried hands through it repeatedly. He's paler than usual, making the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced. Lastly, the King notices that his lips look redder and wetter than they normally do. Almost like the man has been biting and chewing on them.

"You're not telling me something." Arthur says as his mind gets more clear. Merlin shifts uncomfortably under Arthur's keen eyes.

"Everything is fine, Arthur, I was just going out for some fresh air." Merlin replies. Something is telling Arthur that he is being lied to. He studies Merlin more intently, which only makes Merlin squirm more restlessly. He lets his eyes flick down to the bag now resting at the man's feet.

Quirking an eyebrow, Arthur says, "That looks like a pretty large bag for only getting fresh air." A spike of unease flares in his chest as he remembers Merlin's panicked ramble those few months ago when his magic first showed signs of returning. Was the man still planning on leaving? Without telling Arthur?

Merlin's cheeks burn a soft pink as he looks away, right hand coming up to clutch at his left elbow. Arthur cocks his head to the side as he reads all of Merlin's silent body language. He knew the man well by now, it would be impossible for them not to be incredibly in tune with each other. Even with his sleep addled brain, he knew that Merlin was up to something, or at least had something planned, that he wasn't telling his partner about. And that stung.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Arthur gets to his feet. As he approaches Merlin, he notices the other man's subtle flinch. It brings him pause for a brief moment, before he continues on, not stopping until he's toe to toe with him. Arthur reaches out gentle hands, moving slowly. He half expects Merlin to pull away, but the man doesn't, allowing Arthur's calloused hands to grip his wrists, run up his arms and over his shoulders, down his back to his waist.

"Merlin," he whispers, "tell me what's going on." He flicks his eyes back and forth between Merlin's, looking for any clue as to what the man was thinking. He wasn't used to being this shut out, and it worried him. Scared him, even, if he was going to be honest. He watches mutely as several different emotions flicker across Merlin's face. When he stays silent, Arthur sighs sadly. "You were leaving, weren't you?"

Merlin's eyes snap up to meet his properly, for the first time since he was caught. He, once again, opens his mouth to reply, but the words die in his throat as Arthur reads the panic in his eyes. Arthur is torn between so many different emotions, that he isn't sure which way he wants to respond. _Anger_ that Merlin had been planning on leaving without so much as a goodbye. _Fear_ that one day soon he may never see the man he loves ever again. _Insecurity_ that he isn't doing enough, isn't good enough, to keep Merlin at his side. _Understanding_ that Merlin still feels such a crushing guilt over what happened.

The King pulls his friend, his warlock, his lover into a strong embrace, a steady hand on the back of his head guiding him into the crook of the King's neck. He feels Merlin relax into the embrace, leaning into him as he wraps his own arms around Arthur's body. Merlin shudders once as a surge of emotions rips through him. He settles soon enough, warm breath puffing out evenly against Arthur's skin. Once he is satisfied that Merlin is indeed staying, he slowly lets go and pulls away. 

"How about breakfast?" He asks. "I know that it's early still, but I can send for David."

Merlin avoids his eyes as he nods silently. Arthur lets his hands trail back over Merlin's body until both of his hands are clutched tightly in his. He gives them a firm squeeze before letting go. As he crosses the room to the doors to his chambers, he hears rustled movement behind him. Merlin settling down to stay. He smiles tautly to himself. One escape attempt overturned. How many more to go before Merlin realizes that he is safe and wanted here?

The guards outside his doors snap up to attention as Arthur opens the door. He almost snorts out a laugh, but thankfully manages to catch it in time as he waves them off. "At ease, gentleman. I merely need David to be informed that he is to bring breakfast to my chambers early."

"Of course, Sire." The larger man, Renault, nods. "I will fetch him at once." Arthur gives him a nod of thanks as he moves away from his post. He notices the other guard, Ethan, relax and slouch a little more as he turns back to return to Merlin. He smiles as he goes, closing the door quietly behind him.

Merlin glances up from his spot perched on the edge of the bed as Arthur reenters. He looks away again, cheeks flushed red. Was it shame? Embarrassment at getting caught? Arthur clenches his jaw slightly, holding back his questions for now, as he crosses the floor to take a seat next to him. Habitually, he reaches out and takes one of Merlin's hands into his, soothing his fingertips over it until the fist loosens and he can properly slide his hand into its proper place. There are so many things that he wants to say, and yet, he holds his tongue. _For now_.

The heavy silence between them is broken by a soft knock on the door. "Enter!" Arthur calls out, biting back a fondly amused smile as David carefully pushes the door open whilst carrying a tray laden down with food. It doesn't matter how many times the King has told him not to worry about it, that he was rather used to his servants not knocking, but it never made any difference. David was everything that Merlin had not been.

Arthur gets to his feet to help the boy with the heavy door, receiving a bashful but grateful look in return. The boy's eyes flick over to Merlin for a moment, face creasing with concern as he takes in the haunted look in Merlin's eyes, the statuesque way he's holding himself on the bed.

"Thank you, David. I will send for you should we require your services later. Sorry for the early wake up call." Arthur says as David makes his way back to the door.

The boy bows slightly, much more respectful to station than Arthur is used to, between Merlin and a select few of his knights. "No need for an apology, my Lord. I will await further instruction."

Arthur closes the door, making sure to flick the lock, then ventures back to Merlin's side. "Come," he says, holding a hand out, "lets eat. You'll feel better."

Merlin's eyes flicker up to his, and he smiles. It's small, almost barely there, and sad, but it's a smile all the same. Arthur takes a moment to celebrate the very small victory that, that slight curve of lips represents. "Isn't it usually my job to look after you?" He asks, some of the life returning to his previously dead voice.

A chuckle passes Arthur's lips as he tugs Merlin to his feet. "It used to be, yes." He replies. He pulls him closer still, resting their foreheads together. "Let me take care of you for a change. At least for just this morning. I know you don't want to talk about it, but something is up with you." He adds on softly, letting his mildly dangerous words hang in the air between them. Suspended in the very tension that they, themselves, created.

Merlin pulls back slightly, making Arthur's heart race in a decidedly unpleasant way. "You're right, I _don't_ want to talk about it, so lets not." He steps back again, and moves past Arthur toward the table where David had left the heavy tray. Arthur watches him pass with wary eyes. The strained distance currently brimming between them was disconcerting. It made the uneasy pit in his stomach grow even larger, slowly turning from a pit to an all out chasm. He swallows back his words again, and follows Merlin to the table with a slight frown marring his features.

As Arthur sits down across from him, he racks his brain for anything to say that won't elicit a negative reaction from the currently volatile man. His eyes stray around the room, coming to rest upon the piles of parchment on his desk. Various reports from the regular patrols of Camelot's borders, news of potential visiting nobles, and requests for visits to neighbouring kingdoms. Amongst these parchments was also a report on the grain fields surrounding the city. They had truly been flourishing this year. Everything seemed to be.

"There is good news from the farmers." Arthur says conversationally. Merlin looks up at him, hands still idly cutting a sausage into smaller bits. "It sounds like we will have a good harvest this year. There haven't been nearly as many reports of vermin and pests destroying crops as there have been in previous years."

Merlin nods innocently. "That is good news." He agrees. "The people of Camelot deserve a good harvest. They are being blessed with good fortune, especially considering the droughts surrounding the city."

The King narrows his eyes as he studies Merlin's still innocent face. "Indeed. It would almost seem like something is looking out for Camelot and her interests." Arthur muses, hoping to get some kind of a reaction out of Merlin. Alas, Merlin just shrugs noncommittally. 

"If you believe in such things." He replies, lifting one of the small bites of sausage to his mouth. Arthur feels a frown overtake his features again. Merlin was lying to him. _Again_. He was well aware of the fact that the warlock's magic was returning much sooner, and more rapidly, than he had anticipated. He also knew that as Merlin's power grew, so did his anxiety. The King was willing to work with Merlin, soothe him when things got a bit too much for him. However, he had the distinct feeling that Merlin was keeping just how strong his magic had become from him. It felt like their early years all over again, Merlin keeping a huge part of himself hidden and secret. The suspicion left a sour taste in his mouth, and an almost fearful clenching in his stomach.

~~~

Merlin silently berates himself as he moves through the stone hallways of the castle. Arthur had been reluctant to let Merlin out of his sight, but somehow, Merlin had convinced him that he wasn't leaving. He cringes as he recalls the events from earlier, how he had frozen as Arthur's bleary eyes had landed on him mid-escape. Well, mid-decision to potentially escape, anyway. Not even an escape, really. More leaving to keep him and his reign safe. Whatever it was, he had been caught, and he couldn't believe that he had been so stupid.

Much to his dismay, his magic was returning at a much faster rate than he had first thought. As it grew in strength, it became more insistent. It begged to be let out, to be used, every waking moment. It was slowly becoming more and more difficult to hide the fact that his magic was coming back. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed, and Arthur was put in a very difficult situation again. Merlin refused to put the man he loved in danger again. Hence, his bangled run away attempt that morning.

It had been far from his first attempt. The first time, about a month prior, Merlin had even gone so far as to put as sleeping spell on Arthur, one that would wear itself out in a few hours, in hopes of keeping the King asleep and unawares as Merlin silently slipped away into the night. He'd had his hand on the door, ready to leave, when something compelled him to look back. A stray bit of moonlight had drifted in through the poorly closed curtains, basking Arthur in silvery light. Merlin's breath had caught in his throat, and he had nearly dropped to his knees. The very thought of losing Arthur forever was enough to potentially destroy him.

This morning had been much the same. Merlin could never quite put his finger on why he always paused before leaving. What force was at play that always managed to glue his feet to the floor, refusing to let him continue until he glanced back? It was always that last glimpse of his beloved’s halo of golden hair that crumbled his resolve. What had caused Arthur to wake and catch him anyway?

Still grumbling at his own apparent ineptitude, Merlin knocks briefly on Gaius' door before pushing it open and entering the physician's chambers. Gaius looks up, greeting the younger man with a look that seemed to say, _'Ah, so you're still here after all'_. And, oh, wouldn't Arthur have a few things to say over the fact that Gaius always knew of Merlin's plans to leave, even when the King didn't.

"I assume you're here to help?" Gaius asks as he returns to the potion he is brewing. He thankfully doesn't comment on Merlin's failed attempt to leave again.

"Yeah. While I'm here I may as well help as much as I can." Merlin replies, eyeing the mortar and pestle that Gaius is using to grind up herbs.

Gaius glances up at him briefly. "I'm also assuming that you wish your actions to continue to be kept from everyone? The King included?"

Merlin flinches slightly at his old mentor's loaded tone. The physician disapproved of Merlin's wish to keep his actions entirely secret. Ever since his magic had gotten strong enough, Merlin had been using his newly returned gifts to help Camelot, and the people living within its borders. He lent a helping hand to Gaius in the form of casting spells to add magical elements to his remedies. He snuck out from time to time to perform enchantments on the fields surrounding the city and providing the people with food. The reports of droughts plaguing the outer reaches of the borders had Merlin redoubling his efforts to ensure that the citizens of the city didn't suffer needlessly.

Yes, Gaius." Merlin says. "It's for everyone's own good if I am believed to be just like them. It's the only way to keep Ar- to keep Camelot safe."

Gaius rolls his eyes, tutting slightly. "I don't understand why you two refuse to publicly come forward together. It's not like the entire kingdom doesn't already know about your close relations." He says, making Merlin blush ferociously. Arthur had been more than willing to announce to the entire kingdom about their courtship, but Merlin had refused. Only those in the citadel itself, who had any access whatsoever to Arthur's chambers, and a select few of the knights were aware of their relationship. Once again, Merlin felt that keeping things a secret would keep Arthur safe in the long run. How would the people feel about the man who attacked them being their King's consort?

Merlin ignores him, instead opting to scoop up the roll of parchment sitting on the table waiting for him. Apparently Gaius knew that he wouldn't be leaving that day after all. The warlock reads over the script written in thick lines of ink over the page, mouthing the words to himself as he works out the phonetics in his head. Once he thinks he's got it, he reads it out loud, eyes flicking to Gaius for approval. As the older man nods, Merlin holds his hand out over the now bubbling potion and speaks the words again, calling his magic forth.

That oh-so-familiar buzzing fills his veins as his magic happily surges forward, leaping and sparking from his fingertips as it races out and into the potion. The sickly green liquid glows molten for a moment before settling back into its unsavoury colour. Merlin grimaces at it.

"What's this one for?" He asks, curiosity getting the better of him as he places the parchment back down.

Gaius replies, without lifting his head, "A little boy in the Lower Town who has been suffering from a severe fever. I fear that if we cannot get it to break, he may not pull through."

Merlin nods as he watches the physician pour the contents into a small vial, and put a stopper in it. "What's causing it?" He asks. Gaius looks almost pained at the question, shaking his head.

"I haven't been able to find a cause yet. I feel your gifts may be the only thing that can save him." He replies. Merlin chews on his lower lip as he thinks over Gaius' words. He thinks he knows what the physician is trying to do. He's trying to convince Merlin that he isn't a monster. That he can stay here and still keep everyone safe. That even with his magic returning, the people will be able to look past what happened, and continue accepting him with open and loving arms.

Once again, Merlin stays silent, unwilling to delve into the topic again. They had already argued over Merlin's decision to eventually leave enough times to know that neither one was going to change their mind. Merlin would not, _could not_ , take the risk that Gaius and Arthur were wrong, and the people would call for true retribution over what had been done to them.

"Your efforts regarding the fields surrounding the city have been successful." Gaius muses as he moves around the room, collecting various potions, and tinctures, and herbs to pack into his bag.

Merlin groans. "I know. I've heard it all from Arthur already this morning." He replies tiredly. His heart rate quickens as he recalls Arthur's musings over how something must be looking out for them. He wasn't sure if Arthur had found him out, or if he had merely been fishing for information. Had he been looking for an unnecessary confession, or had he been hoping that Merlin would slip up and spill his secrets?

Gaius lifts an eyebrow. "And yet, he still has no idea that Camelot's good fortunes are all thanks to you." He says offhandedly. Merlin can hear the intent behind his words, though.

"No, he doesn't." Merlin replies. "Nobody does, and nobody can find out. We've been over this Gaius. What I can do must be kept a secret again."

Gaius purses his lips, but nods all the same. He disagreed heavily with the decision, but he would respect it. It was ultimately Merlin's decision, after all. He seals his bag once he has all his supplies packed. Merlin pushes off from the table where he had been leaning, following the physician to the door. He reaches out to grip the older man's arm just before the door is opened.

"When the time comes that my staying here is too big a risk, I will be leaving, Gaius." He says solemnly. Gaius nods solemnly back, meeting Merlin's eyes sadly.

"I know, Merlin. And when you leave, you will be greatly missed by all."

~~~

From the semi-hidden recess of a sunken doorway, a man glowers as he watches the crowd of people moving through the market. His eyes land on one individual in particular. Hatred spurs in his gut as he watches the man stroll along beside the Court Physician, like he had any right to be back within the city walls. He should've stayed gone. Everyone would've been better off if he had died that fateful day so long ago.

The man snorts as he looks away. He knew that many did not share his views. Many had forgiven Merlin his transgressions. They had been able to see the other side of things, with time. Forgiveness was not something that Nathaniel gave out willingly. It had to be earned, and in his mind, Merlin had not earned it.

Yes, he had come back powerless. He had nearly died when he had ripped his magic from his body. He no longer posed a threat. Nathaniel had heard all these lines, and more. But he still hadn't trusted him. He had followed the man, had watched him closely. He had seen Merlin sneaking around at night by himself. He had witnessed the sorcerer's eyes glow gold as he chanted strange, unknown words over their crops. True, the crops seemed to be flourishing, but it was only a matter of time before whatever curse he had laid down took hold. Merlin was a liar. He was dangerous. He needed to be exposed and stopped. For good.

Nathaniel's dark brown, nearly black, eyes tracked Merlin's movements, shifting in the man's almost ratty looking face. He had thick, curly hair atop his head, in the same shade as his eyes, and a thin, scraggly beard decorating his chin in sparse tufts. In other words, he was unimpressive. He was easily missed. The eyes moved over him and onward without really taking him in. His unremarkable features made him easily underestimated. Dismissed. Which suited Nathaniel perfectly. Better ease to go about his plans.

Slipping out from his alcove, he tracks along behind the physician and the sorcerer. From his distance, he can hear their voices, but can't distinctly make out what they are saying. He had often wondered if Gaius, beloved physician to Camelot and trusted advisor to the King himself, was in on whatever plot the younger man was brewing. In many ways it would make sense. Gaius had, after all, been Merlin's guardian when the man had first arrived in Camelot as merely a boy. He had sheltered and protected him. He, no doubt, knew about Merlin's magic long before the sorcerer had tried to destroy the city.

However, the physician had lived through the Great Purge. He had been loyal to Arthur ever since the King's coronation, and to Uther before him. There was likely a chance that Merlin had spelled him to not turn him in. In fact, the longer Nathaniel pondered it, the more he was certain that Gaius was just as much a victim as the rest of them had been.

A sudden laugh from up ahead draws Nathaniel's attention back outward. The two men had been stopped by the maid Guinevere. Now here was someone who could potentially be an ally of Merlin's. She, herself, had been convicted of sorcery, even if the claims had been proven false. He watches their exchange with calculating eyes. Guinevere was all fond smiles, and gentle touches, and the display made Nathaniel question the rumours he had been hearing about the sorcerer and the King. He creeps a little closer, wanting to hear what they're saying.

"You should come round for dinner soon, Merlin.” Guinevere says earnestly, a gentle hand still resting on Merlin's elbow. "I know you've been struggling lately, and I just want you to know that I want to help, in whatever way I can." She gives Merlin a knowing look, and Nathaniel's heart launches into his throat.

"Yeah, maybe. I mean, dinner would be great. I'm not so sure I want to pull you into my mess." Merlin replies evasively.

Gwen tuts at him. "Nonsense. I'm already a part of your mess." She replies.

And there it was. A confession, if Nathaniel ever heard one. The witch must die alongside her sorcerer lover scum.


	2. Chapter 2

If asked, Arthur would've been hard pressed to recall exactly what the petitioners from the outlying villages had actually wanted that day. He remembered brief grievances, such as loose cows, and supposedly illegally erected fences. To him, they had all seemed rather inane. What did it matter that so-and-so's goats had gotten loose overnight and eaten the neighbour's grass down to short nubs. Grass grew back, did it not?

"Sire?" Sir Leon's voice broke him out of his confused speculation. He hums in reply as he blinks back to the present. The knight almost seems to be holding back a rather amused smile.

When Arthur finally manages to focus his attention properly, he asks, "Sorry, what was that?"

Now, Sir Leon was decidedly fighting back a smile. "I said, that was the last of them, my Lord."

Arthur glances up at the scruffy dressed villagers leaving the throne room. No one else other than the other necessary council members, and of course, the King himself, remained. Arthur has to stop himself from groaning out loud in relief. If he had been forced to listen to one more petty grievance he may have actually climbed out the window and scaled the walls down to freedom

"Very well." He says instead. "Thank you, Leon. You are all dismissed." He waves a hand vaguely, and the various other men in the room rise to their feet and make their hasty retreats. Arthur, however, remains seated in his rather uncomfortable throne, wondering how on earth his father had spent so much time seated here himself, and pondering what to do about Merlin. He blinks in surprise when someone clears their throat.

"Sire, if I may?" Sir Leon says. Arthur nods for him to continue. "You seem to be a bit distracted this morning." The knight says hesitantly. "Is there a matter in which you require any assistance?"

Arthur studies his knight intently, wondering how much information he could safely divulge, and if he even should. Despite his position as the king, were Merlin's problems really his to talk freely about with other people? Sure, Sir Leon was a well respected and trusted knight. He was a friend to Merlin, despite everything that had happened. Arthur knew, deep down, that Leon posed no threat to the warlock, and yet, he found himself unsure. Even before he had realized the depth of his feelings for Merlin, the man's safety had always somehow been of the upmost importance to Arthur. Now that their relationship had changed, no matter how secretly it had, that need to protect Merlin had only intensified.

Coming to a decision, Arthur asks, "Have you noticed anything... _different_ about Merlin lately? Any changes in behaviour, or interruptions in his usual routine?" Even as he asks, he knows that he won't get a satisfactory answer. Ever since his return to Camelot, Merlin had become a very private person.

As expected, Sir Leon replies, "Not that I have noticed, my Lord. Why? Is there cause for concern?" The knight's hand subconsciously reaches for the hilt of his sword, and the action causes Arthur's mouth to twitch up into a half smile. It doesn't last long, however, as he recalls Merlin that morning. Had he really been preparing to leave?

"I do not believe that he is in any form of physical danger." Arthur says, quelling the worries that his knight may have had. "I merely get the feeling that he isn't being completely honest with me. Something is going on that he isn't telling me about, and I had hoped that maybe you had heard something."

To Arthur's dismay, Sir Leon shakes his head. "No, my Lord. I have not heard anything about Merlin. I will report to you immediately should I learn anything of consequence." The knight says solemnly. Arthur nods his gratitude. Shortly after, the knight takes his leave, leaving Arthur alone in the vast room, thoughts swirling almost nauseatingly.

Unable to sit still anymore, Arthur rises to his feet, pacing over to one of the many large windows. Looking down, he watches the bustling activity in the courtyard below. He catches sight of Gaius, winding through the people milling about, no doubt returning from a trip to the Lower Town. Arthur had been informed of a break out of fevers throughout the poorer citizens. Despite being assured that there was no cause for concern yet, the King can't help but feel a pang of anxiety. It was his duty to protect these people. He always felt so helpless, so powerless, when they were being attacked by something he couldn't defeat himself with sword and shield alone.

As he watches, Merlin comes into view, trotting along after the physician. Arthur feels another pang of helplessness as he watches the dark haired man move through the crowd. At one time, he would have strode through purposefully, shooting welcoming smiles and kind words to the people as he passed. Now, his shoulders are slightly hunched as he avoided looking at anyone for too long. It didn't seem to make any difference how many times that Arthur reassured him, he did not believe that the people of Camelot had forgiven him. He was convinced that it was only a matter of time before they called for his blood. The king allows himself to mourn the loss of the man that Merlin had once been. That truly awful curse had wreaked more damage on Merlin himself than it had on anyone, or anything, else. It had left Merlin as a mere shell of who he really used to be.

Arthur turns away from the window in frustration. Not only had Merlin changed, but he was also keeping things from him again. When Arthur had finally found Merlin again, a year after he had left Camelot, the man had been very forthcoming about where he had been, and what he had been doing. He had very rarely ever held anything back when speaking with Arthur. Now, however, ever since his magic had shown signs of returning, he had shut Arthur out. That, more than anything, is what scared him. That one day, he would wake up and Merlin would be gone, leaving him with no insight as to where he could be found. Perhaps Merlin was doing it all on purpose. Intentionally distancing himself so when he inevitably disappeared again, the wound left behind wouldn't be as gaping and bloody. If that was the case, then it was truly laughable. Losing Merlin again, in any capacity, would hurt Arthur more than he cared to admit.

The King paces back and forth across the floor before deciding to leave. He wanted, _needed_ , answers, and he knew that the only way he might get them was to catch Merlin off guard. With a steely sort of grim determination, Arthur leaves the throne room, and begins to make his way back to his chambers. He isn't necessarily sure that, that is where Merlin will be, but it's as good a guess as any at the moment. His steps are hurried as he goes, and no one stops him along the way. One look at the hard set lines on his face tell everyone he meets that he is not to be disturbed.

As his chamber doors come into view, Arthur pauses. He knew that the conversation he wanted to start would most likely end up an argument. He had known Merlin for well over a decade. If there was one undisputable fact about the man, it was that he was as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be. Once he made his mind up about something, trying to change his mind was like debating with a brick wall. Arthur chews on his lower lip as he rests a hand against the heavy wooden door. Was he ready for this?

"Arthur?" The King jumps at the voice so close beside him. He had been so caught up in his head that he hadn't even heard Merlin approaching. When he turns his head to look at the man, getting a small and uncertain smile in return, he feels his prepared words die on his tongue.

"Merlin." He nods. "How was your morning?" He continues innocently as he pushes the door open. Merlin watches him quizzically before following him into the room.

"Good." Merlin replies, the word almost lilting up at the end in the form of a question. "The boy in the Lower Town who was suffering the worst from the bout of fevers is doing better after Gaius' latest remedy."

Arthur's eyes flick over to look at Merlin. He has a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't only Gaius who helped the boy. He frowns, not liking the slimy feeling in his gut that Merlin keeping things from him creates. Merlin catches his eyes, and frowns back.

"What?" He asks. "I thought you'd be pleased to hear that the boy was on the mend." He adds on, an eyebrow quirking up that would no doubt make the elderly physician quite proud.

Arthur purses his lips, his mouth thinning into a tight and tense line. "I am, of course." He replies hesitantly. He opens his mouth to continue, but the words stick in his throat, refusing to come out. Merlin's frown deepens.

"Then what is it?" He asks, tone guarded, almost like he already knows what Arthur wants to say.

"It's just..." The King starts, before stopping to really think over the best way to approach this. Being diplomatic, and keeping the emotion out of it, is the best way to ensure better results. However, where Merlin is involved, Arthur has always struggled to keep emotion out of his words and actions.

Merlin tilts his head, eyeing him suspiciously. "It's just, what?" He prompts. Even his body is tense now, taut like a bowstring, ready to snap. Arthur knows he has to tread carefully.

"I want you to know that you can trust me." Arthur says slowly, chewing the words over in his mouth before letting them come out. "Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me. I can't help if I don't know what's going on." It could just be his imagination, but he thinks he sees Merlin pale at his words. "Is someone giving you trouble? Tell me who and I can sort it out for you."

Merlin frowns and turns away, making something in Arthur bristle at having his back turned to him. Merlin was the only one who ever dared show him such disrespect. Unfortunately for Arthur, he was also the only one who could get away with it. And Merlin knew that.

"Merlin." He says, trying for stern and wincing when it comes out more desperate.

Merlin half turns back, so Arthur can see the side of his face. "Nothing is wrong, Arthur. I've already told you that." He argues. Arthur bristles again.

"Then why don't I believe you? Why do I feel like you're holding something back? Like you're lying to me about something?" Arthur counters. He watches Merlin's face morph into a scowl. Which was rich, Arthur thought, considering _he_ was the one who was lying.

Just as quickly, Merlin sags. He turns sad eyes in the King's direction, and Arthur feels his annoyance begin to wan. "Arthur, please, just leave it alone." He begs.

Arthur inhales, fully intending to push, to ask why he had caught Merlin trying to leave with the rise of the sun, but finds that his arguments are waning as well. The two men stand on opposite sides of the room, Arthur wholly unaware of when and how much distance was put between them, and stare at each other. It feels like a stalemate. Much to his chagrin, but unfortunately not to his surprise, Arthur backs down first.

"Fine." He sighs, running his hands up through his hair. "Fine." He repeats. "I only ask one thing." He pauses, waiting for Merlin to nod. When he does, Arthur continues. "Come talk to me before you make any rash decisions." He holds his breath as he waits for Merlin to agree. As the seconds slip by, he starts to get more worried. There's an obvious conflict in Merlin's eyes, and it makes the uneasy flame licking at his insides roar into a bonfire. At last, Merlin nods his head, albeit reluctantly. Something about the jerky movement makes Arthur more worried, instead of putting him at ease.

Pushing his worries aside for now, Arthur opens his arms, silently beckoning Merlin closer. He half expects the man to refuse, to stay rooted to the spot on the other side of the table. Something almost soft flits across Merlin's face, and he takes the dozen or so steps separating them to fall into Arthur's arms. Arthur curls his head around, burying his nose in Merlin's soft hair, and just breaths him in. Even as Merlin embraces him back, his gut is clenching with worry.

~~~

The sky was fading from pale blue to almost bronze when Nathaniel finally spotted the witch, Guinevere, leaving the gates of the main citadel. The guards smiled amicably at her, wishing her a good night. as she passed. She smiled back, returned the well wishes, and proceeded further down into the Lower Town. Nathaniel pushes off from the wall where he is leaning, and follows her. He makes sure to glance back at the guards to see if they noticed him. Just as expected, their eyes had slipped over him, not deeming him worthy enough of their attention.

Gwen makes her way slowly down the much less busy streets, stopping every now and then to chat to the other citizens of the city as she goes. The people seem to love the woman, drawn to her warm smiles and sunny personality. Nathanial, however, watches her with wary and keen eyes. He doesn't trust her. She is clearly in league with the traitor, Merlin, and therefore he needs to learn all he can about her. He cannot hope to defeat the enemy without having all the proper knowledge on how.

Nathaniel sticks to the darker alleyways as he goes, being absolutely sure to stay out of sight, of not only Guinevere, but of everyone else. It simply wouldn't do to have someone alert the witch to his presence, ending his plans for retribution before they even began. He ducks out of his dark corner, aiming for the next as they make their way through the Lower Town. She was heading for home, that much Nathaniel knew. Was Merlin going to be meeting her tonight? Surely that invitation for dinner had actually been a front for something much more sinister.

A cruel smile curls the man's lips as he finally watches his prey step off the street and move toward a door. Her residence. Now that he was sure of where she lived, keeping an eye on her would become much more simple. He had a few other people, scattered throughout the city, on his side. Not as many as he had hoped, only about half a dozen, but it was enough for some initial surveillance while he left the city to recruit more men to his cause. Men who could fight. Who could help him take down the rotten stain that was spreading out from the castle.

Creeping closer, Nathaniel chances a look in through the small window as Gwen steps into her home. She's moving around freely, humming softly to herself. It's a familiar tune, but not one that Nathaniel can immediately put his finger on. As he watches, careful to not get caught by either her, or the other people on the street, he realizes that she almost seems _normal_. Even now, in the safety and solitude of her home, she is not using magic. True, it is still banned, but surely Gwen would not worry about such inane things. Not when she was so close to Merlin, and by extension, the King himself.

Biting his lip, Nathaniel ducks away from the window, and slips seamlessly into the street, making his way away from Guinevere's home unnoticed. He ponders what he has just seen. Perhaps the woman was merely too timid to perform magic, what with the threat of execution looming over her head. Even if the threat was laughable at best. King Arthur hadn't executed anyone for magic use in longer than Nathaniel could remember. If ever. This left the alternative that maybe the witch wasn't actually a witch after all. That thought was troubling. Why would someone without magic help a known sorcerer? Either way, she was conspiring with Merlin. She could not be trusted.

With a new determination in his step, Nathaniel moves through the well known streets of the Lower Town. He had work to do.

~~~

A phantom voice in his head makes Merlin jerk awake. He can feel himself shaking, even as he realizes that it was only a dream. He hears the steady snore behind him, and silently thanks whoever is listening that his sudden movement hadn't woken Arthur as well. A sleep deprived King was not an ideal one to deal with. Merlin tries to settle back into the arm draped lazily across his waist, but finds the endeavour pointless. His body is simply too wound up now to try to go back to sleep.

As gingerly as possible, Merlin shifts under the heavy weight of Arthur's arm. He holds his breath as he squirms away, praying that his luck holds and the man stays asleep. He nearly sighs in relief as he sits up on the edge of the bed, free from the King's warm hold. When he looks over his shoulder, he can vaguely make out the troubled pout on the King's lips at the sudden loss of heat. Merlin slowly gets to his feet to make his escape before Arthur wakes up. He's not _leaving_ leaving. He just actually needs some fresh air this time.

Grabbing his boots, he pads across the floor silently on bare feet. When he reaches the door, he pulls it open quickly to avoid the creaking of the hinges. The guards posted outside blink at him in surprise as he steps out into the hall. He gives them each a small, taut smile as he turns to close the door, in much the same fashion in which he had opened it. Only once there's a barrier between him and Arthur, does Merlin stoop to slide his feet into his boots.

As he straightens up, he says, "Nothing to worry about, Just couldn't sleep. You wouldn't believe how loud our king snores." The one guard, Pasha, snorts out a laugh at Merlin's insolent jab at their sovereign. Merlin gives them a cheeky, crooked grin.

"All right, Merlin. We'll keep Arthur safe while you're gone." Pasha replies. Merlin nods his head in thanks before turning and quietly making his way down the hall. His body is still subconsciously forcing him into stealth mode, the last vestiges of his dream, and that oily voice in his head, holding on for dear life. He discreetly tries to shake them away, desperate to convince himself that even though his magic is returning, it does not mean that, that darkness that had once clouded his mind was returning too.

"Merlin?" Merlin jumps at his name, worried for one brief moment that Arthur had actually awoken, and had followed him. Once his mind catches up with his instincts, however, he recognizes the voice to not be that of his king, but that of one of his closest friends.

"Merlin, is everything all right?" Lancelot questions further as he steps closer.

Merlin offers him the same taut smile that he had the guards. "Yeah. Just some trouble sleeping." He goes to add on the teasing remark about Arthur's ability to snore worse than a boar, but stops himself. Lancelot would see right through it anyway. Just as expected, the knight is giving him a worried look.

"Bad dreams?" Lancelot asks, and Merlin grimaces. Was he really so easy to read? Lancelot interprets his frown to be embarrassment, and settles a soothing and reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Nothing to feel bad about, Merlin. I get plagued by nightmares after every battle. Violence should never be something that you become accustomed to."

Merlin relaxes slightly as his friend's words. He still had his ability to hide his more troubling thoughts and secrets from the people around him. He feels a sudden pang of guilt, for essentially lying to his friend. If anyone deserved to know the truth, it was Lancelot. He had kept Merlin's magic a secret. Had lied to his king, the man he had sworn allegiance to, just to keep Merlin safe. If anyone could be trusted with Merlin's plans to leave, his fears that he was endangering all those he loved just by being there, it was Lancelot. Still, he guards his words, keeping them close to his chest out of self-preservation and fear.

"I know," he finally replies, "doesn't make dealing with them any easier."

Lancelot nods ruefully. "If you are out here, wandering alone, I'm assuming that Arthur does not know about these nightmares that plague you at night?" He may not know the exact specifics of Merlin's dreams, but it was easy enough to guess what haunted the man. Sometimes, when Lancelot, himself, closed his eyes, he had visions of Merlin with black eyes, only in these vision they weren't able to reach him, to save him. The knight shudders at the sudden thought.

"Uhm, no." Merlin replies, reddening slightly as the full realization of just how much he was keeping from Arthur really hits home. How could he give his heart to the man, share his bed at night, and still not willingly give over his troubling thoughts and insecurities?

The hand on Merlin's shoulder squeezes again, drawing his eyes up to meet the warm ones of his friend. "Arthur is a good man, and everyone knows how much he cares for you, even if you two won't actually come forward about it." Lancelot says, making Merlin's blush deepen. "Talk to him, Merlin. Do not push him away. He will understand, and he can help you. Your friends are here for you, Merlin. No matter what."

Merlin gives him a wan smile, desperate to take him up on his unspoken offer, to fall into the comfort of his friend and get some of his worries off his chest. However, a much larger part of him is telling him to run. To leave this situation and keep his intentions to himself. He is already endangering Gaius by clueing him into his plans. He refused to bring anyone else into his mess with him.

"Thanks." He smiles. "I'll think about it. Right now, it'll be like trying to talk to the dead, though. You know how Arthur is when he sleeps." Merlin adds, trying to lighten the mood. Lancelot smiles, but it doesn't quite chase away the worry in his eyes.

"Of course." Lancelot replies. "Take care, Merlin. You should try to get some rest. You look tired."

Merlin nods, extracting himself from the knight's grip. Lifting a hand in a vague motion of a wave, he continues on down the hall. He doesn't hear movement behind him, can feel Lancelot's eyes burning a hole into his back. Once he turns the corner, and can no longer feel the man behind him, he sags against the wall and takes several deep breaths. His magic prickles under his skin, reacting to the tightening of his chest. Closing his eyes, he focuses on breathing, trying to soothe the insistent buzzing in his veins.

Once he's collected himself, he pushes off and continues on his way. He lets his fingers trail along the cool stone of the walls. His eyes look over the tapestries on the walls, the hollow suits of armour decorating the halls at seemingly haphazard intervals. Camelot had been his home for over a decade, and his heart ached at the thought of his inevitable departure. He would miss these walls. Miss the people who strode down them during the day, and paced them at night. Goodbyes were never easy, and he had no illusions about the difficulty of this one.

Once his eyes start to grow heavy, he makes his way back to Arthur's chambers. The guards each nod once as he approaches, and he nods back. As he pushes the door open quietly, he spots Arthur sitting up in bed.

"Merlin?" The King says, voice almost fuzzy and thick with sleep. "Where were you?" It was really only at moments like these that Arthur truly let his worries and fears show, and now was no exception. There was genuine insecurity lurking in his blue eyes. Merlin's body softens at the sight.

"Just out for a walk. Couldn't sleep." He replies once the doors are shut behind him.

Arthur frowns, looking almost like a sad puppy. "I woke up and you were gone." He says, sounding vaguely lost.

"I'm here now." Merlin replies, sliding back onto the plush mattress beside the king. _'For now.'_ He adds on in his head as Arthur curls a heavy hand around his neck and pulls him into a tired, chaste kiss. Merlin's heart thuds heavy in his chest. Yes, leaving Arthur again would be the hardest thing he had ever done.


	3. Chapter 3

Three men and one woman stood around Nathaniel in what was supposed to be a semi-circle, but fell short on a few accounts. Nathaniel still had his teeth gritted in frustration at the lack of people who had shown up. He had sent out word, discreetly of course, for all of his fellow supporters to meet him in his small, dingy home. Not all of them had answered the call, clearly, and it irked the man. How was he supposed to return proper order to the city when he couldn't count on anyone to properly back him up in the process? Those who had shown up looked almost frightened. Definitely worried. Almost like they expected the king himself to come bursting in at any moment and accuse them of conspiring against his latest plaything.

Nathaniel snorts, making all of them jump subtly. "Okay," he starts, clapping his hands together, "it looks like this is it. I am assuming that since you're here, you all agree with me that the sorcerer _Merlin_ is a problem." He doesn't state the words as a question, more like an undisputable fact. Like, the sky is blue, or the knights of Camelot are arguably the best in all the land. Heads nod, and there are murmurs of agreement around him, and Nathaniel smiles. It's not a nice expression on the man's face, his lips curling up to show yellowed teeth, and his eyes crinkling disdainfully.

"Good." He purrs. "I also assume that I have your full support then." More nods and murmurs around him. "There are many in Camelot who have foolishly looked past what he did. They've weighed the good against the bad, and found his heart to be pure. We, however, are smart enough to see the darkness still lurking underneath, ready to be called forth when we all least expect it. It is our duty to stop him before that can happen, as well as any accomplices he may have." He pauses here to scrub at his chin, lips pulling back as he feels the greasiness of his sparse beard.

"I have already found evidence that the maid Guinevere is helping him. There is a chance that the Court Physician, Gaius, is as well, although he may not be doing it by choice." He stops again, looking at each person in turn. They're all looking back with rapt attention. "This next bit is... delicate, so I implore you to please remain calm." He warns, and four pairs of eyes widen. He spreads his hands out, face pulling down into a mopey frown. "There is also a chance that he has another accomplice, although, I am uncertain as to whether it is voluntary or not." He pauses for a moment, for effect, before continuing. "The king. Arthur Pendragon himself."

There is a round of loud gasps, and Nathaniel has to hold back a pleased grin. "I know the situation is daunting, but I know some people who can help. While I go out in search of them, I need you to keep as close an eye on everyone as you can. The woman and the physician should not be too hard, but the sorcerer and the king pose a few more issues. You must be discreet, and not get caught. Gather as much information about their daily movements as you can. Make note of anything weird or suspicious. You may need to take shifts, as I know firsthand that the sorcerer likes to wander at night."

More nods follow his words, and Nathaniel feels a bolstered sense of looming success. All four of these people were inconspicuous. He had no doubts that they could, and would, successfully tail his quarry, and report back to him upon his return. He only hoped that he would return in time. He knew who he was looking for, but actually finding them was a whole separate issue. Bands of misfit men, bandits and mercenaries who were trained to kill, did not _like_ to be found.

Nathaniel clasps his hands together in front of him. "I expect full reports when I return. Now go, there is no time to waste. The future of Camelot, and the safety of its people, are relying on our prompt success." He gets varied responses of assent from the four of them before they all move to the small front door. The only door, really. They file out one by one, making sure that the coast is clear before fully stepping out onto the street. Once he is alone, he sighs. His heart is thudding in his chest, excitement filling him up as he thinks over what they are going to do, what they are going to accomplish. A cruel, smirking grin splits his face as he moves to his small excuse for a desk to start packing his supplies.

~~~

Merlin shifts uneasily from his spot by the wall as he watches the men sitting around the round table converse. He hadn't wanted to come to the council meeting that morning, but Arthur, the great prat that he is, wouldn't take no for an answer. Merlin had still been protesting as Arthur latched onto his wrist and dragged him down the halls behind him. The warlock had noticed the King's behaviour change over the past couple days, since he had been caught in the process of leaving. The man had become very subtly clingy. Arthur may not even be aware that he _was_ clingy, and Merlin knew that pointing it out to the King could just lead to a disaster. A disaster that Merlin very much wanted to avoid.

Feeling eyes on him, Merlin glances up just in time to see Arthur's eyes skitter away. He would almost laugh out loud at how badly Arthur overcompensates by plastering a ridiculously interested look on his face as he looks at the old councilman droning on. He almost would, had he not been so damn uncomfortable. He skin feels prickly and clammy, and he knew he was sweating more than he should be, but he couldn't help it. This was one of his first times back in the company of the full council since the _incident_. Merlin rolls his eyes to himself at the sound of the word being spoken in his head in Arthur's posh voice. _Incident_. More like _bloody disaster that ruined everything_.

"Merlin." Arthur's voice breaks into his thoughts, making him blink back to the present. "What do you think?"

Merlin's heart lurches in his chest as he realizes that all eyes are currently on him. "Er, what? Sorry." He replies, feeling like his throat is slowly sealing shut.

Arthur is giving him a rather amused look. "There have been rumours of druids settling within the city, setting up seemingly innocent shops, but selling _other things_ on the side. Various healing charms, and the like." The King says slowly, almost like the words are being repeated. Which, Merlin thinks, they probably are.

Merlin blinks, and before he can stop himself, blurts out, "Well, healing charms are hardly nefarious and dangerous, are they?"

Arthur looks like he's fighting back a grin. "Agreed. However, that didn't exactly answer my question." When Merlin just blinks again, Arthur purses his lips, eyes twinkling. "Since you clearly missed it, there has been discussion as to what to do. The two options that have been presented to me, or at least the two options that I find viable," he shoots one particular older gentleman a glare, who promptly withers under the look, “are to formally ask them to leave, in accordance with our current laws, or to leave them be and see how things play out. So, once again, what do you think?"

Merlin scrambles for an answer, whilst also trying to figure out what Arthur is playing at. Why ask _him_ , of all people? He's a nobody. He isn't on the council, he has no official voice, no power to make decisions, and really no right to be offering suggestions. However, Arthur is looking at him intently, giving all his attention over to him, like he's planning to fully listen to anything and everything that Merlin has to say. A quick look around the room shows the other council members looking at him curiously, no hints of animosity showing on any of their faces.

"Uhm, well." Merlin starts and falters, having to take a second to swallow thickly. "The druids have always been a peaceful people, no matter what your father thought. Despite everything, they never once offered to attack Camelot, or the people here."

When he stops, Arthur nods contemplatively. "This is all true, and very common knowledge." He says. "But what would you suggest I do?" He tacks on pointedly. Merlin swallows thickly again, cursing at his magic pulsing hotly through his veins, urging him to let it go out of its sheer excitement at the King's words. Never before had Arthur so openly, and so publicly, spoken about allowing magic into the city.

Merlin flounders slightly, still not really seeing what Arthur's angle was. Why was he asking him this? "I say leave them be. They're certainly not hurting anyone. Offering their expertise as healers could be a genuinely good thing for the city, so long as the people don't panic. If things get dodgy, step in and deal with it." He replies slowly, uncertain. The King is smiling softly at him, which only serves to confuse him more.

Nodding once, Arthur turns back to the table. All attention in the room immediately diverts back to the King, and Merlin feels like he can breathe a little easier. His mind was still whirling away, out of control, over the implications of what just happened. Was Arthur sneakily trying to see how the people would react to peaceful magic being performed in their midst? Or was it just the druids that he was thinking about granting leniency?

Arthur's voice pulls Merlin back to the present. "What do the rest of you think?" He asks, looking around at the men seated at the table. "Do you agree with what Merlin said, or do you think I should go the other route?"

There's a few beats of silence before Sir Leon pipes up. "The druids once saved my life. I agree that we leave them in peace. We have no quarrel with them, and given that the citizens agree, their expertise and gifts could prove invaluable."

The knight glances up at Merlin as he finishes speaking, giving him a single nod. Merlin stares back. It was true that Arthur had assured him that none of his friends begrudged him what happened. However, it was another thing entirely to see it firsthand like this. The man had absolutely zero reasons to lie. If he truly did feel that the magic the druids possessed was not to be trusted, then he would have said so.

Merlin glances around at the other occupants of the table as they each take their turn to agree with what Sir Leon said. Even the older councilman whom Arthur had reprimanded with a single look agreed. Although, that could have been from ingrained fear of what the king would do to him if he didn't agree.

Arthur nods in satisfaction, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Very well. That is what we will do. Leon, I will have you discuss with the regular guards to keep tabs on the situation. Don't watch them like hawks, as that gives off the wrong impression. Just have enough of a presence to know right away if something seems to go wrong."

Sir Leon nods. "Of course, Sire. I will see to it right away."

Arthur smiles fully now. "If there is nothing else to discuss, then we're done here. You are all dismissed."

There's a flurry of activity as all the men rise at once. Piles of parchment are organized and picked up, a few parting words are exchanged. Sir Leon snags a fellow knight, Sir Geroch, to help him brief the guards on their new orders concerning the druids. Only Arthur is still seated once all the others file out of the room. Once they're alone, Arthur slowly rises to his feet. Merlin watches him, unable to move just yet.

He gets a decidedly concerned look as the King gets closer. "Merlin?" Arthur asks, brows creasing further in worry.

"Why would you do that?" Merlin chokes out hoarsely. "The laws against magic are still in place. Why allow known magic users to reside within the city? Doesn't that make you look weak?"

Arthur looks contemplative as he studies Merlin's face. "Perhaps." He drawls out slowly. "However, showing leniency to a known peaceful people shows mercy. It shows proper and true justice. Should any of them choose the wrong path from here, they will be dealt with."

Merlin flinches involuntarily as memories of blood rush to the forefront of his mind. "The people won't like this. I never should have returned."

Merlin misses the way Arthur blinks in surprise, too busy studying his shuffling feet below him. "Merlin?" Arthur says softly, a hint of worry lacing his tone. "Merlin, what does your return to Camelot have to do with any of this?"

The King's words force a stricken look onto the warlock's face, and he lifts his eyes up to meet Arthur's desperately. "If I had just stayed away, you wouldn't be doing this now. I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to make me feel more at home here again. More welcome, and-and safe. You're trying to make it so that I'll stay! But the people won't like it, Arthur. You're knowingly putting yourself in danger for me, and you shouldn't!" Merlin rants, voice growing louder as he speaks. He suddenly pales as he realizes what he has said. He just admitted to Arthur that he was planning to leave. One look at Arthur's hurt face tells him that the King had unfortunately picked up on that particular sentence.

"So, you _are_ planning to leave." He says softly. Merlin's stomach rolls queasily.

"Arthur." He breathes. The King holds up a hand to stop him. For once, Merlin obediently shuts his mouth.

"Have you been planning to leave from the beginning?" Arthur asks, voice calm but strained. Merlin winces, telling Arthur all he needs to know. "Were you ever planning to tell me that you were leaving? Or was I just supposed to find out one morning when every trace of you was gone?"

Merlin drops his gaze guiltily. He hears Arthur snort out a rather humourless laugh. "Arthur, please, you have to look at this from my side."

"And what side is that, Merlin? The side that you don't trust me? You have never once believed me that you are welcome here. That the people have healed. True, some of them might hold grudges, but you've been back for almost two years, and no one is lining up in the street and calling for your blood! Is it just _me_ that you don't want to stay with?" Arthur pales a little at the accidental confession.

Merlin steps forward, hand raised to touch Arthur before letting it drop, thinking better of the action. "Of course not, Arthur. I would love nothing more than to stay here with you, but you have to understand that it's for you that I must leave. Nothing is worth your life, Arthur, and if my leaving is what it takes to keep you safe, then that is what I must do."

Arthur sighs softly, sadly, and looks away. "You just don't get it, Merlin." He says, already starting to turn away.

"Don't get what?" Merlin asks, an unpleasant humming starting in his ears. Arthur doesn't reply, just continues to turn away, taking achingly loud steps toward the doors. Merlin stares after him in confusion, flinching as the heavy doors open and then bang shut.

~~~

Several very unpleasant emotions are raging through Arthur's body as he walks through the halls. He doesn't really have a specific destination in mind, but is not surprised at all when he finds himself in the armoury. There was no formal training set for that day, but it had been a while since Arthur had merely taken his frustrations out on one of the straw dummies usually reserved for the green knights.

Shrugging off his cloak, he grabs the first sword he sees, and makes his way back out of the small room. Well, not _small_ , more full and slightly cramped. It have the illusion of being small, anyway. The grounds are relatively empty, much to his delight. He makes his way across the cobblestones to the equally deserted training grounds. As he steps out onto the grass, he feels some of the tension bleed from his muscles and limbs. Here, he knew what to do. The rules were simple. He didn't have to try and fathom anyone else out.

He sets his sights on the straw dummy furthest from everything else, and makes his way purposefully over. As he gets closer, he swings the blade around, getting a feel for its weight, and how balanced it is. Once satisfied, he had fought with most of the weaponry in the armoury already, he gets into his usual stance, and takes the first swing. His feet take on minds of their own, muscles moving reflexively out of sheer memory, and he allows himself to get lost in the sheer ease of it all. He doesn't come back to himself until he catches movement from the corner of his eye.

Wiping sweat from his brow, he turns in the direction he had seen someone, and really looks. At first, he spots no one. Then, he spies the man hurriedly walking away. He is unremarkable in appearance, easily missed in a crowd. On his own, however, he stands out. He is short in stature, with close cropped, mousey brown hair. His clothes are shabby, clear patches and sewn stitches visible. One of the unlucky impoverished people living in his city.

"Hey!" He calls out, already moving in the man's direction. Arthur assumes that the man had seen the King out alone, and had been trying to pluck up the courage to approach him, to beg and plead for any assistance that could be provided. To his surprise, though, the man looks over his shoulder at the call, then hurries his steps. Arthur watches in confusion as the man rounds a corner, and vanishes from sight. He stares after him for a moment before looking around to see if anyone else had witnessed the man's strange behaviour, but he's all alone.

"That was weird." He mutters to himself. Turning back to the dummy, he once again raises his sword. He prepares himself to take a swing, before he lets his arms drop. This wasn't helping, and it wasn't making him feel any better. Not anymore, at least. His previous unpleasant emotions come swirling back, and he manages to single one out and focus on it, eventually being able to put a name to the curls in his stomach. _Hurt_. What Merlin had done, was planning to do, had _hurt_ him.

With an exhausted huff, he drops to the grass beneath him, landing in a strange looking, but comfortable enough, heap at the base of the straw dummy he had just been assaulting. His mind goes back over his previous conversation with Merlin, very much against his will. He had come out here to try and force Merlin's words and intentions out of his mind, not bring them into even sharper clarity.

With a burst of frustration, Arthur drives the point of his sword into the ground beside him. He felt out of control, and he didn't like that. He was used to calling the shots, being obeyed. True, Merlin had come into his life and turned all that upside down, but his fierce loyalty had always kept him by Arthur's side. Right where Arthur wanted him. He wasn't used to having to fight to keep him where he belonged.

"Sire?" Arthur looks up at the guard cautiously approaching.

"Yes, Renault?" He asks, clambering to his feet, and dusting the stray grass from his legs. The guard, thankfully, does not comment.

Renault bows slightly. "I was sent by the maid Guinevere. She said it was urgent." He says. Arthur frowns and lets his eyes drift up to the castle, as if he could see why he was needed through the stone walls.

"Did she say why?" He asks, already pulling his sword from the ground.

Renault shakes his head, in the standard non-verbal signal for _'no'_. "She did not, Sire. She merely asked me to come fetch you at once. I told her you were not to be disturbed, but she insisted." He says, almost sheepishly, like he feels bad for intruding on Arthur's brief lapse of control over his emotions.

Arthur smiles kindly. "Not to worry. Where may I find her?" He asks.

Renault straightens up at the news that he is not in trouble, replying steadily, "In your chambers, my Lord. With Merlin."

The King's face creases into a deeper frown as all manner of scenarios run through his head. What had the idiot gone and done now? With a nod of thanks to his guard, Arthur makes his way back to the armoury. After depositing the blade back where he had taken it from, he leaves and moves through the castle halls toward his chambers. A deep rooted sense of trepidation fills his bones as he gets closer. Had Merlin been injured? Had Gwen caught him trying to leave again? Had _she_ been injured?

With more and more grim ideas popping into his head, he bursts into his chambers, just shy of being completely out of breath. Both Gwen and Merlin look up at his sudden entrance. Merlin's expression is unreadable, while Gwen looks decidedly cross. For some reason, Merlin's facial expression, or rather, the lack thereof, makes the King more uneasy than the woman's clear frustration.

"Yes?" Arthur breaks the silence. "I was told there was an urgent matter that needed my attention." His eyes flick uncomprehendingly between the two other occupants in the room. Both of them look okay. He doesn't see any packed bags like he had _that_ morning. What was so urgent that he had needed to practically run here from the training grounds?

Gwen turns her frown on _him_ , and glares equally as ferociously. He almost takes a step back. _Almost_. "I don't know what happened between you two," she finally snaps, "but now that you're both here, I'm locking you in until you figure it out. You've been acting weird for quite a while, Merlin—don't you try to argue with me!" She says louder when Merlin opens his mouth to contradict her. He snaps his mouth back shut and drops his gaze. Arthur stares on wide-eyed.

One deep breath later, and Gwen continues. "You two are simply awful when it comes to communication. It's like dealing with a pair of toddlers. Actually," she pauses for a moment, "I think the toddlers may be easier to deal with."

"Now, hang on!" Arthur finally splutters, recovering from his momentary shock.

"I'm sorry, my Lord." Gwen says, trying to sound genuine, but her tone still coming out a bit snappy. "But it's true. The whole kingdom can see that you've had an argument, and it's only been, what? An hour or two?"

Both men blush and look away. Arthur silently curses himself for not being able to hide his emotions where Merlin was concerned. He had spent his entire childhood and teen years learning to push his emotions down, learning to rule with his head and not his heart. All it apparently took to shake that lesson was one bumbling peasant crashing into his life spectacularly.

"Good." Gwen says when neither one of them argue. "I'm leaving now, and you two are going to talk."

Arthur watches plaintively as Gwen crosses the room, and disappears out the doors. He almost flinches as they bang shut, the sound reverberating through the stilted silence left in the room. He glances at Merlin, finding him in a very similar state of unease. God, he doesn't even know where to begin. His nerves are running haywire, various emotions rushing to the surface, only to be pushed down and quickly replaced by something else. How does he go about fixing something when he isn't even sure how? What did he even have to fix? Somewhere along the line, the man standing before him decided he was no longer welcome here. He already felt like he had done all he could to make Camelot feel like home for Merlin again. What more could he do?

His frantic spiral of thoughts gets cut off by the gentle press of lips against his. He immediately relaxes into the hands cradling his cheeks. His arms reach out automatically to grip a narrow waist, pulling his love closer, craving the feel of the man's heartbeat against his chest.

Merlin pulls back breathlessly, nearly making Arthur whimper. "I'm sorry." He says softly, angling his head just enough to meet the King's eyes. "I'm sorry." He repeats.

"I'm sorry, too." Arthur replies, although he's not entirely sure what he's sorry for. His mouth opens on its own, blurting out, "I'm sorry that I haven't done enough. I'll try harder, do more to make you feel at home."

Something unreadable flickers across Merlin's face, and Arthur blinks as he tries to discern what it is. Guilt? Shame? Fear? He doesn't get a chance to delve deeper, to question further, because Merlin steals his breath away in another soft kiss. The chaste press of lips grows more desperate, more urgent, almost like the man is trying to convey his feelings through touch, instead of words. Arthur kisses back, matching the push and pull of pressure as he tries to map out his own reassurances to the other man.

When Merlin pulls back again, he has a watery smile on his face. Arthur reaches up to gently brush over a cheekbone, eyes studying the somber face in concern. Why did something about this feel like a build up to a goodbye?


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was slowly setting, dipping closer and closer to the horizon, and sending tendrils of pink, and yellow, and orange curling out across the sky, mixing into the most breathtaking mottle of colours that Merlin had ever seen. He had somehow managed to extricate himself from Arthur's watchful gaze long enough to slip off to one of the higher walls, content to merely sit in silence and watch the sky change colours. He had every intention of of finding the king after, but for now, he very much needed some time to just breathe. To sort his muddled thoughts out. The past few days have almost been a blur, with constant reports on the newest additions to the city being brought to the king daily. It seemed that things were going well. They were being accepted, despite their more illicit operations. Not for the first time, Merlin finds himself wondering if perhaps the people would feel the same way about him.

As the colours above him shift again, the sun sinking lower, he holds up a hand and lazily mutters a spell. A small flame flickers to life in his palm, and he watches it with almost sad eyes. At one point, the sight of this small thing that he created would have brought him immense joy. He would have felt a certain sense of accomplishment. Now, he feels a lick of dread in his stomach as unsavoury memories tickle his mind. He closes his hand, snuffing the flame out. Oh, how he wished that he could go back in time and change things.

"Merlin?" A woman's voice calls out almost tentatively.

Looking over, Merlin feels himself smile genuinely. "Hello, Gwen. What brings you all the way up here?" He gestures around him, encompassing the part of the stone wall he was sitting on.

"I was looking for you." She says simply, sinking down to the sun-heated stone beside him. Merlin stiffens ever so slightly.

"Did Arthur send you?" He asks, trying to sound like he doesn't really care, when he actually does.

Gwen gives him a small smile. "No, he didn't. I'm here because I want to be, Merlin." She replies. Merlin nods, and the pair slip into a comfortable silence, just watching the sun slowly disappear. When only a sliver is left showing, Merlin starts to wonder why she's here.

"Did you need something?" He asks quietly, feeling like the quiet peacefulness around them shouldn't be broken by loud voices and loaded words. He keeps his eyes up, watching as stars slowly become visible, one by one, as the sky darkens further. He can _feel_ Gwen's eyes on him, studying him intently.

"I know that you're going to tell me that you're fine, cause you always do, but I'm worried about you, Merlin. You're one of my best friends, and you went through something awful. You've been so... so _quiet_ since you came back. I miss you." Gwen says, equally as quiet, as if she could see Merlin's reasoning for lowering his voice, and completely agrees.

Merlin smiles, but it's far from happy. "I know you're worried, Gwen, but trust me when I say that there's nothing you can do to help." He finally lowers his gaze, meeting Gwen's dark eyes. He can see the sadness in them even in the failing light.

"You don't know that, Merlin. Please just let me in. We used to be so close. We'd tell each other everything, or just about." She says. Merlin flinches guiltily at her unspoken accusation. He had never trusted her with his biggest secret. He had never told her about his magic. She had learned the truth about him just as everyone else had. Through blood, and fire, and fear for her life. He squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head away, unable to look at her anymore.

"Oh, please don't, Merlin." Gwen begs softly. "Don't shut me out. I only want to help, and I promise whatever you say here will be kept safe. I won't tell another soul."

Merlin takes a deep shuddering breath and feels his resolve to stay isolated start to crumble. He could trust Gwen. He always had. Right from the moment they first met, he had felt that connection with her. She had always been there for him, ready to help even when it put herself in potential harms way. He owed this much to her, at least.

"It's just getting hard." He finally says, lifting his eyes back up to the sky.

"What is?" She asks gently, laying a reassuring hand on his arm, and giving a squeeze.

"Everything." Merlin says through a miserable laugh. "It's all changing so quickly, you know? One moment everything is great, and then the next? Forget it."

Gwen studies him for a moment. "Is this about the curse two years ago?" She asks softly.

Merlin nods absently. "It all started there, I suppose. I hurt so many people, and I never wanted to. I've never forgiven myself for what I did, so why should they?" He gestures to the town below, flickering flames insides homes lighting up windows in small scattered dots.

"But they have, Merlin." Gwen points out.

Merlin looks at her, brow creased in a frown. "But why should they have? What I did was undeniably evil. Why not hate me for the rest of time? Spit on my name, and vow to seek revenge?" He asks earnestly.

Gwen bites her lip. "For a while, they _did_. They were scared, but once things settled down, they healed. They learned the truth, and slowly came to believe what we had told them. You were not to blame, another was, and in your own way, you had protected them."

Merlin snorts and looks away, furious with himself all over again. "I tried to burn their home to the ground. How was _that_ saving them?" He counters bitterly.

"Because somehow, you managed to stop yourself from unleashing your full power. You held back, and that saved lives, Merlin. Instead of killing, your blows merely injured. I don't know how you managed it, nobody does, not even Gaius, but you did. If it had been anyone else..." She drags her sentence off with a shudder, but Merlin still doesn't feel any better.

"That still doesn't change what happened." He murmurs into the encroaching darkness of twilight.

"No." Gwen agrees. "But you proved your good heart by returning powerless. You made a huge sacrifice, one that nearly killed you, just to prove that you weren't a bad person. If you were truly evil, you would've held onto your power regardless."

Merlin huffs unhappily. "Sometimes I think everyone would've been better off if I _hadn't_ survived." He admits monotonously. Gwen inhales sharply beside him, but he refuses to look at her.

"You don't mean that." She says weakly. Merlin shrugs.

"Why not?" He asks placidly. "What benefit has there been to me being back?" He adds, refusing to think about the flourishing crops, or the countless lives he had discreetly helped Gaius save.

"You make people happy, Merlin. Wherever you go, smiles are always left behind." Gwen argues. Her words bring a sad smile to Merlin's face.

"I know you want the truth, Gwen, about why I've been so withdrawn these past few months." He says, ignoring her attempt at an uplifting comment.

Gwen nods. "I do, but only because I care about you. I'm not trying to be nosy, or anything. I'm just worried about you. We all are. Lancelot and Gwaine. Even my brother, and Percival and Leon. Don't even get me started on Arthur." She rushes out, wanting him to know that she was genuine, and not just looking for some idle castle gossip. Not that he could ever think that low of her. Gwen was too pure of heart for that kind of thing.

Merlin inhales deeply. "The spell to rip out my magic was very powerful." He starts. "Unfortunately, I'm more powerful. The druids themselves call me Emrys. The most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth. My purpose was to protect Arthur. I really managed to bangle that, didn't I?" He cuts himself off to swallow, blinking rapidly against the sudden tears in his eyes. Beside him, Gwen is listening to him intently.

"Anyway," he continues, "the spell obviously worked, but because of my power, it hasn't lasted as long as I had hoped it would. I was hoping for years, at least. To be able to happily coexist amongst everyone without fear of that darkness clouding into my mind again. But I wasn't that lucky. My magic started to return a few months ago, It was shaky at best, in the beginning. Intermittent. But as the days go by, it's gotten stronger. It's coming back more quickly now, and honestly? I'm scared, Gwen."

"Oh, Merlin." Gwen breathes, pulling him into a hug. "Does Arthur know about any of this?"

Merlin nods against her shoulder. "Most of it, yeah. He doesn't know how powerful I've become again, though. Somehow, I've managed to keep that much from him."

Gwen pulls back to look him in the eyes, keeping her hands on his shoulders. "But why? Why keep that from him? He could probably help you, Merlin. I'm not sure how, but I'm sure he'd think of something." She says, so earnestly and sincerely that it brings more tears to his eyes. He blinks them away again.

"That's the thing, though. There's really nothing he can do about this. As my magic grows in strength, it'll become harder to hide it, especially with people knowing I used to have it. They'll be watching more closely now. I've been having to sneak off in the middle of the night to let it out, cause it just gets so _loud_ and _insistent_." He rants, frustrated. Gwen gasps a little bit, and he draws his eyebrows together in confusion.

"It's because of _you_ , isn't it?" She asks. When Merlin just cocks his head to the side in silent question, she elaborates. "The farmers, they've all been gushing in the market about how good their crops are this year. They're all growing healthy, and haven't been attacked by pests or anything. It's _you_ _!_ _You've_ done some magic to them to help them grow."

Merlin blushes, thankful for the shroud of dark around him to hide it. He hadn't told anyone except Gaius about his extracurricular activities. He's somehow embarrassed now that someone else knows as well.

"And the sickness in town. All those people having such speedy recoveries. That's been you as well! You've been helping Gaius." She continues, and he ducks his head and looks away, giving his friend all the answer that she needs. "Oh, Merlin, can't you see how _brilliant_ that all is? You've been really _helping_ people. Only a truly good person would be as selfless with their gifts as you are."

Merlin nearly jerks away at the word _gifts_. He hadn't called his magic that in a very long time. "It's the least I could do, after all that happened. The people of Camelot don't deserve to suffer. I saw a way to help them, so I did it." He mumbles, shrugging again.

A silence descends upon them as they both go over what had been said. Merlin muses over the one thing he still hasn't divulged. The whole reason behind the frosty atmosphere between him and Arthur. Gwen was also thinking abut how Merlin and Arthur had changed. When Merlin had first returned, the pair had very much been _MerlinandArthur_ , despite the fact that they refused to admit it. Everyone could see how close they truly were. However, lately they had decidedly become _Merlin and Arthur_. Spaces between their names and all. Something had happened. Something had changed.

"Merlin, why do I feel like you're not telling me everything?" She asks tentatively, watching how he stiffens beside her. "What aren't you telling me? Please, Merlin." 

Merlin chews on his lower lip in uncertainty. This was not a conversation that he wanted to repeat again. Telling Gaius, and trying to convince him that it was the right choice, the _only_ choice, had been bad enough. Arthur finding out had been a nightmare. Telling Gwen would certainly not prove to be any easier at all.

"Gwen, I..." He trails off as he studies her face, the soft features that had always made him feel so welcome. "Arthur found out that I was planning to leave, and he... well, let's just say that he doesn't approve of the decision." He admits ruefully.

Gwen stares at him in shock. "You're planning to leave?" She asks. "And you never told me?"

Merlin looks away shamefully. "That's almost what Arthur said, except there was a lot more righteous anger involved." He says, trying to crack a smile, but finding himself unable to.

They lapse into another silence, this one decidedly more strained. Merlin fidgets beside his friend, both grateful for the darkness around them, and cursing it. He couldn't decide whether not being able to see her face was a blessing or not. She undoubtedly looked quite hurt, what with being left in the dark, and Merlin was almost happy he couldn't see it. There was already enough guilt curdling in his gut.

"Why?" Gwen finally asks simply, breaking the thick silence between them.

Merlin thinks over his answer carefully before speaking. "The people of Camelot have been groomed to be distrustful of magic, to hate those who possess it, for a very long time. Those views take a long time to change. What I did, whether it was my fault or not, only served to heighten that fear. Even if the people have healed, there will always be that shred of uncertainty surrounding magic for them. I left before to keep Arthur safe. The people were very vocally calling for my execution, and we both know Arthur would never hurt me. To be seen giving a sorcerer a full pardon for breaking the law would've alienated the people. They'd no longer trust him."

"Yes, I can see that." Gwen fills the silence as Merlin pauses. "But that was then. Why now?"

Merlin purses his lips, inhaling deeply. "For the same reasons. To keep Arthur, and everyone else, safe." He shrugs.

Gwen frowns and chews on her lip thoughtfully. "But Arthur has allowed the druids to live in Camelot. The people are aware of their magic, and yet, they aren't afraid. They've been welcoming."

Merlin sighs softly and looks back up at the stars. He ponders his answer for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain his viewpoint. He never really had gotten Gaius to agree with him, just merely grudgingly agree to help him. The man still strongly voiced his opinions on the matter whenever the discussion came up.

At last, Merlin says, "I know that Arthur is allowing the druids to live here for me. He wants to groom the people to allow me to stay freely, unafraid of execution for who and what I am. For now, the people are okay with it, but how long before they decide enough is enough? My presence here is putting Arthur in danger, and I refuse to have him be hurt. Therefore, I must leave. To keep him safe."

He is acutely aware of Gwen staring at him incredulously, even as she opens her mouth to reply, "Merlin, you leaving is going to hurt him. You didn't see him when you left last time, obviously you didn't, but it broke him. Not in any obvious way. I mean, the people never noticed anything, but those closest to him did. He went through the motions, was the best king he could be, and he excelled at it, but there was no heart there. No fire, or life. He just did his duty, and that's all he did. He threw himself into being king, and he ran himself ragged. I barely ever saw him smile until you came back. He _needs_ you, Merlin."

Merlin blinks a fresh wave of tears away as he averts his gaze. He was internally cursing this entire conversation. _This_ was exactly why he had been reluctant to tell Gwen. Aside from Arthur, Guinevere had the best shot at changing his mind. But he couldn't change his mind. His decision was for the best. It had to be. Right?

"Gwen, please don't." He begs.

"Don't what? Tell you the truth?" She replies.

"Don't make this any harder than it needs to be. I _have_ to leave, why can't you see that?" He asks desperately. He _needs_ her to see his side, to see why he had to do this, why this was the only course of action that he could take.

She settles her hand back on his arm. "And why can't _you_ see that you don't need to?" She argues gently, as if she could ease him into a sense of security strong enough to change his mind. He can't let her succeed.

"It's not safe, me being here. Not for the people closest to me. I must protect the ones I love." He states stubbornly. Rehearsed lines that he said to himself every morning. Lines he told himself every time he felt his composure slipping. Lines that cracked and turned to dust every time Arthur kissed him, only to come back with a vengeance when he finally managed to get air back into his lings.

"Oh, Merlin." She says, repeating her words from earlier as she, once again, pulls him into a surprisingly strong hug. Not that anything really surprises him about Gwen anymore. "Please promise me that you'll at least _think_ about what I've told you."

Merlin doesn't reply. He can't. He doesn't want to lie to her, even if his entire being is screaming at him to agree. He doesn't _want_ to leave. There is nothing he craves more than to stay here, with his friends, and his love, no matter how impossible their relationship really is.

"Merlin?" Gwen pushes when she doesn't get an answer.

Finally, Merlin consents. "I'll think about it, but I won't promise that I'll change my mind."

Gwen pulls away and gives him a teary smile, that still somehow manages to come across as cheeky. "Is there anything I can do to help change your mind?"

Merlin laughs, his first genuine laugh for a while. "I'm not telling you that." He says, smiling slightly when Gwen bursts out into tear choked giggles.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't, would you?" She says at last, once she gets her laughter under control. The mood sombers again quickly. "But at least I have your words to think about it. That's better than nothing, I suppose."

Merlin opens his mouth to reply, but gets distracted by something over Gwen's shoulder. He could've sworn that, for a moment, he had seen a darker shape silhouetted against the shadowy stone walls of the castle. He stares intently, searching for any further signs of movement. His expression must show that something could potentially be wrong, because Gwen looks over her shoulder to see what he's looking at.

"What is it, Merlin?" She asks. Merlin holds up a hand.

"I thought I saw something." He whispers softly, conveying his sudden prickling need to be quiet. His magic reaches out stealthily, running along the stones, searching for anything out of place. He gasps almost inaudibly as he senses another person on the wall with them, hiding just out of view. He pulls his magic back, and looks at his friend.

"There's someone else here." He says softly to her.

"Someone dangerous?" She asks.

Merlin shakes his head in forlorn frustration. "I can't tell."

Gwen sets her jaw, and gets to her feet before Merlin can stop her. He scrambles up behind her as she slowly starts making her way down the walkway along the wall, eyes searching intently for any shifting shapes in the dark. Merlin hurries to follow her quietly, once again letting his magic reach out to sense the world around them.

He _feels_ more than hears the movement up ahead, and calls out, "Who's there?" There's a brief scuffle of feet on stone, and then whoever it is, is racing down the wall away from them. For a moment, Merlin debates on using his magic to stop them, but clamps down on it. There's too much risk for injury up here on the wall, and besides, he had vowed to limit his usage of magic on other people to only helping them, and usually as indirectly as possible. Like enchanting a remedy for the sick. They give chase, but he can already feel them getting further away.

"Who was that?" Gwen finally pants as they come to a halt inside the castle. Various doors and stairways will make it almost impossible to track them here, not to mention the large amount of other people, making it pointless for Merlin to try to use his magic to do it.

"No idea." He replies, just as breathlessly. "Whoever they are, I think it's safe to assume that they probably don't have good intentions."

Gwen looks worried. "No, I guess if you're hiding in the dark and eavesdropping on other people's conversations, you probably don't have their best interests at heart." She replies, slowly straightening up from where she had been leaning on her knees. "What do you think they wanted?"

Merlin looks around, going back over their conversation. "No idea, but I have a feeling it has to do with my magic." He replies uneasily. If word got out _now_ about how powerful he was once again becoming, who knew what would happen.

"Do we tell Arthur?" Gwen asks, shifting genuinely conflicted eyes to Merlin.

"Given that I am the king, I would advise strongly that you do." They both jump at the voice behind them.

"Oh." Merlin blinks, not having noticed Arthur sneak up on them. He had been too caught up in his thoughts and worries to even hear his approaching footsteps.

Arthur gives him a taut smile. "Yes, _oh_." He says to Merlin before his eyes flicker to Gwen and back to Merlin several times. "Now, what was it that you had to tell me?" He asks, feigning patience. The King was obviously still a bit sore over how Merlin had managed to duck out of his presence earlier. He continues to eye them shrewdly as they share a look. What do they tell him? The truth? Merlin gives Gwen a subtle nod.

Nodding back once, Gwen turns to the King and says, "We were up on the wall, watching the sunset and just chatting, when we noticed someone up there spying on us. It was too dark by then to catch a face, or anything distinguishable, but they were definitely there."

Arthur frowns at the news, eyes moving from Gwen, once she finishes talking, to look at Merlin. No doubt it had been _him_ that the person was watching. Something uncertain flickers to life in his stomach. Merlin looks back at him, unsure what to say, or what the King seemed to be silently searching for on his face. Whatever the cause for the scrutiny, Merlin shifts from foot to foot uncertainly.

"I'll have the guards notified of any possible lurkers in the castle. Without knowing who to look for, I'm afraid there is not much can be done." He finally says, eyes going back to Gwen, addressing her, as she had been the one who had spoken.

"Of course, my Lord." She says, and curtsies slightly. "Anyway, I'll see you, Merlin." She gives him one last significant look before moving hurriedly off down the hall. For yet another time that night, Merlin finds himself in a stifling silence.

Eventually, Arthur inhales sharply. "Did you have a nice chat with Gwen?" He asks. It may not be noticeable to just anyone, but Merlin can pick up the bitter undertones lacing his words.

Merlin's hand seeks out Arthur's, squeezing firmly as their fingers tangle together comfortingly. "I just told her what I told you. She kind of pounced on me out of nowhere, you know how I can be sometimes if my guard is down." He tries to give Arthur a goofy grin, but it's dampened by the knowledge that he isn't telling Arthur the whole truth. He had, in fact, admitted more to Gwen than he had to Arthur. At least, as far as his returning magic was concerned.

"Of course." Arthur replies mildly. "You can be quite rubbish with secrets when you want to be." Merlin winces at the backhanded words, knowing them to be true. Arthur catches his wince, but doesn't comment, merely squeezes his hand tighter, then moves to lead Merlin back through the halls to his chambers. Merlin studies the man beside him as they go, replaying Gwen's words in his head. Arthur had never really opened up about that year when Merlin had been gone. He knew his absence had undoubtedly been hard on the King, but he hadn't been aware of just how taxing it had truly been. Clearly Merlin wasn't the only one keeping things from his partner.


	5. Chapter 5

Nathaniel was as good with a sword as he could be, being the son of a baker. He remembered going down to the training grounds as a child, avidly watching the knights move across the field in some sort of metal clashing dance. He had studied their movements with wide, easily impressed eyes. Every time an order was given to one particular knight about their footwork, or their upper body form, he had listened intently, trying to soak up as much information as possible. Over the years, he had not had many opportunities to practice his sword wielding skills. His father had passed on when he was ten years old, and after that, he had helped his mother with the bakery. He was calling upon his limited skills now. Or, he might be, anyway.

He had left the City of Camelot roughly twelve hours earlier, heading off in search of someone who could, and would, help him rid the kingdom of the problem currently holed up in the castle with the king. Just _thinking_ about the man again has Nathaniel sneering. Merlin had some nerve, coming back after what he did. And King Arthur was either under a spell, or too trusting to see the evil still lurking there.

His attention snaps back to the present as his horse shies away from something to his right, nearly unseating him. His sharp eyes dart over, searching the underbrush amongst the tree trunks, but finds nothing. He pets the gelding's neck, trying to soothe the animal. His efforts are only half successful, as the horse still prances in place, snorting a few times. He urges the bay on, tightening his grip on the reins.

"Easy, boy." He tries to soothe gruffly as his mount takes several jerky steps forward. Clearly the beast had seen, or smelled, or heard something that he, himself, had not. As he continues his insistent urging forward, he keeps his eyes open for any obvious disturbances around them. If something attacks, he wants at least a little bit of advance warning.

His horse spooks again just as a bush to their left rustles. Nathaniel is torn between holding onto the horse's reins for control, and going for the sword sheathed on his left hip. Just as he starts to let go to reach for the hilt, his mount suddenly rears up onto his back legs as men pour onto the trail in front of, and behind, them. He struggles to regain control as more men approach from both sides.

"Oh, you're in trouble now." One of the men before him growls menacingly. His has thick black hair, and a matching beard. He's dressed in leather armour, and clutching his sword so easily it almost looks like an extension of his arm. If Nathaniel had been in a position to truly focus on it, he would've been jealous of the ease in which the man swung the blade around.

"Wait!" Nathaniel shouts as two men approach closer to his sides, reaching up to push and pull him roughly from his horse's broad back. His sudden yell spooks his already uneasy horse again, and it's back end skitters around, threatening to kick the men grouping behind him.

The man who spoke barks out a short, sharp laugh. "Is this the part where you beg for your life, and we ignore you? I so enjoy this part. Don't you, lads?" He calls out. The other men pick up a chorus of loud jeering, sinister smirks pulling back lips to show rows of crooked teeth, missing teeth, and even one man who somehow has what looks like a gold tooth. If he weren't in immediate danger, Nathaniel might almost marvel at that particular sight.

Nathaniel frantically shakes his head as he says, "No, I'm not begging for my life. I'm not here to fight. I'm here seeking help." More loud jeers and sneers follow his words.

"If you're looking for help, then you unfortunately found the wrong place. We don't help no one." The man says, a decidedly predatory look lighting up in his eyes. It's the same look that Nathaniel imagines a wolf would give a deer that it was about to sink its teeth into.

"Wait, wait, just hear me out!" He cries as they all crowd closer. He feels a hand latch onto his boot, and for the first time, he feels a lick of fear that he may not succeed. 

From somewhere in the group of burly men, he hears someone say, "Oh, I can't wait to have fun with this one. He looks like a bit of a squealer."

Nathaniel swallows, then blurts, "I need your help to kill someone!"

His words cause the whole group to pause. Curious eyes all around him are watching him intently. He heaves a few breaths, trying to stop the racing of his heart. The hand on his leg stays there, but the pressure loosens. He feels some of his confidence begin to return, and he tries for a wobbly smile.

"Go on." The man who first spoke says impatiently.

Nathaniel nods. "There is someone in Camelot I need you to help me deal with. He has a few accomplices as well, who may need some... _persuasion_ to see the truth. Can you help me?" he asks. Silence falls around them, and he shifts uneasily in his saddle. Was naming Camelot too much?

Suddenly, the supposed leader of the group roars in what was probably supposed to be good-natured laughter. "Well, why didn't you start with that, boy? Come, follow us to camp, and we will discuss."

Nathaniel sends out a silent prayer as the men crowding in on him disperse. He gets a few crooked and cruel looking grins as all of them, about ten in total, start moving back into the trees. Nathaniel steers his still on edge gelding to follow. The trees now close in around him as he follows the ragged group of men through the forest. He almost thinks they're leading him to his death anyway, when he notices the trees start to thin out. A clearing up ahead comes into view, and he relaxes. Slightly.

As they break from the trees, Nathaniel notices a few more men here, guarding what looks to be their camp. These new men look up at him curiously, eyebrows lifting in surprise. Nathaniel ignores them and rides closer, dismounting and tying his horse next to the other few that the group of bandits have. A few curious sniffs, and one squeal, ensue before they all settle down. He pats his horse's shoulder before turning back to the flurry of activity going on around him. He spots the man from before near the fire, and moves in that direction purposefully.

"Ah, here's the lad." The man calls as Nathaniel gets closer. "Come, sit, and tell me why you are here." The man gestures to the ground near the fire. Nathaniel obediently sits. "My name is Gurald. I like to know the men I work with."

Nathaniel nods. "I'm Nathaniel, and I come from Camelot, seeking your help." He replies. He briefly thinks about extending his hand for a handshake, but the look on Gurald's face says that if he did do that, he just might have his hand cut off.

"Yes. You previously mentioned that." Gurald muses as he studies Nathaniel from over the fire. The small flames are licking the twigs and leaves, doing a little to help fend off the early morning chill in the air.

Nathaniel nods. "The city has a problem. A magical problem. And it needs to be dealt with."

Beady eyes look Nathaniel over. "If this is about magic, why not bring your concerns to the king? Is that not his job?" Gurald asks.

"Yes." Nathaniel says. "Generally it would be his concern, however, I have reason to believe that he is, in some way, involved."

The makes Gurald lean forward in interest, eyebrows rising almost to his hairline. "Do tell." He says, his voice brimming with curiosity. Nathaniel smiles at how easy that was. He would have no issues getting these men to help.

"What do you know of the man called Merlin?" He asks.

Gurald somehow looks more surprised. "Not much. I've heard rumours about him. Stories. Never had the pleasure of bumping into him myself." He says, hand going to the hilt of his sword by pure instinct. The things he had heard about this Merlin had been far from savoury for people like _him_.

Nathaniel nods. "Yes, there are quite a few stories about him these days. Perhaps most significant is how he singlehandedly tried to lay waste to the City of Camelot. He almost succeeded, had it not been for the king's blade."

"If the king felled him, what use am I to you?" Gurald asks gruffly.

Nathaniel leans forward, steepling his fingers in front of him. "Because he somehow survived."

Gurald's eyes widen in surprise. Clearly he had not been expecting that answer. Not many men tasted steel so closely and lived to tell the tale. The only answer that Nathaniel could think to give was Merlin's magical abilities somehow saving his life. It had been the only thing that Nathaniel could come up with.

"Well now, that is certainly interesting. Go on." Gurald says, waving Nathaniel on to continue.

"Merlin fled shortly after he awoke from his injuries. He was not heard from for a year. There were rumours that he had left the kingdom, gone in search of a fool to give him sanctuary. Some said that he died after all. About a year ago, those were proven wrong when the king left in the morning, and came back with him in tow. He looked a mess, claimed he had somehow ripped his magic from his very bones. I never believed a word he said." He spits, his anger riling up again.

Gurald sits back and looks Nathaniel over. "I take it he lied?"

Nathaniel grits his teeth. "Since his return, I have seen him doing magic with my own two eyes. He slips about so innocently, but he has done something to our crops. He hangs around the physician, so he may be messing with our remedies as well. He is a plague waiting to happen, and he must be stopped."

A spark lights up in Gurald's eyes at the thought of potential blood and violence. He's always liked to fight. Always claims that he was born with a sword in his hand. It was in his blood. What better use for his skills than to rid the great City of Camelot of its most recent danger?

"You mentioned accomplices. Who are they?" He asks.

"One for sure is a woman, a maid named Guinevere. She works in the castle, has access to anything in the Royal Household that she could possibly want. I first thought she too had the curse of sorcery, but I now believe her to merely be a magical sympathetic. Which makes her just as dangerous. She is delusional." Nathaniel replies.

Gurald grins viciously. "She can be dealt with easily. Who else?"

Now Nathaniel shifts uneasily. This part could get tricky. "I fear that Merlin may have the Court Physician under his control. They used to be close. Gaius was Merlin's guardian when the sorcerer first came to the city. It stands to assume that he was always aware of Merlin's power. However, he has never done wrong against the sovereignty. That is why I think, I _fear_ , he may not be in his own mind."

The man across from his strokes his beard thoughtfully. "I'm sure we can bring him around. If not, there are other ways he can be brought to see sense. Anyone else?"

An uneasy silence fills the air around the slowly growing fire. Nathaniel pauses for a moment longer before saying, "I have reason to believe that the king himself may be in league with the sorcerer. There have been rumours about the two of them in the city. Nothing substantiated, per se, but very possibly built on truth all the same."

A low whistle leaves Gurald's mouth. "You don't say? Now there's some news right there. Something like that could easily be used against the king in order to gain access to this sorcerer filth. Now, what do you propose to me?"

Here is where things get a lot more serious. Nathaniel takes a moment to go over his initial plans again. They were rough, at best, in need of some polishing and fine tuning. He was hoping that this man could help him with that. A glance up shows Gurald's intense and dark eyes fixed on him almost unblinkingly. The looks was almost unnerving.

After a deep breath, Nathaniel says, "The sorcerer Merlin must die for his crimes. The others, if they can be cleansed of his magical control, may live. If not, then they too must perish. No shred of the sorcerer's influence can be left alive. He must be expunged from existence."

Gurald's eyebrows shoot up again. "Killing this Merlin will be of little trouble. However, killing the king? Are you sure you're up for that?"

Nathaniel hardens his face, sets his jaw. "If that is what needs to happen, then for the good of Camelot, it must."

The man's gaze grows more intense as he studies Nathaniel further. Nathaniel, for his part, doesn't flinch or shrink away. He meets the scrutiny head on with a fierce look of his own. He was dead serious about this. Every last detail. Slowly, a nasty grin spreads across Gurald's face, and he rises to his feet. Stretching out a hand, he waits. Nathaniel rises too, grasping the man's hand, and shaking once.

"We'll help you, my good man. Now, let's get to work on this plan of yours. When do you want us to storm the city?"

Nathaniel smiles. "As soon as your men are ready to go. The sooner the better, when it comes to Merlin."

~~~

The fire was crackling merrily, bathing the room in a warm golden glow that contrasted Arthur's mood in every way possible. He couldn't help the clawing in his gut every time he thought of Merlin any more than he could help breathing. Even now, with the man sitting quietly in the chair next to his, he felt like they were miles apart. The news that someone was spying on Merlin was unsettling, and he was still unsure what he could do about it.

"Arthur." Merlin says. The King glances at him and hums in reply, urging him to go ahead. Merlin takes a deep breath, and asks, "Why do we never really talk about the year that I was gone?"

Arthur stills with his goblet of spiced wine perched on his lips. He forces himself to take a drink, letting the mix of sweet and bitter flavours settle on his tongue before swallowing it down. His eyes flick over to Merlin, eyeing him over the rim of his goblet. Merlin is staring back, passively, patiently waiting for _something_.

"What are you talking about, Merlin?" Arthur says evasively. "We have." He isn't lying. After Merlin had returned, he had spent a good couple weeks asking question after question about what Merlin had been up to. He had inquired heavily about the spell he had cast on himself. He had even gone so far as to ask benign questions about Sir Geriant, the knight that Merlin had sent his way. And a bloody good one at that.

Merlin frowns. "No, I know we've talked about _me_ , but why haven't we ever discussed _you?_ What did you do for the year that I was gone?"

The King's tongue darts out to wet his lips, tasting hints of red wine left behind. He looks Merlin over cautiously. He had never openly spoken about that year because, in truth, it was too painful to really want to relive. He had pushed all those old emotions down when Merlin had returned, and had buried the key. He hadn't _wanted_ to open that particular door in his mind, and Merlin had never pushed before. Why now?

He clears his throat and says, "What I did was of very little consequence. I performed my duties as king, nothing more." He brushes Merlin's invasive question aside, but he knows that the man is unlikely to drop the subject.

"Arthur, being king isn't of little consequence. Much can happen in a year, especially in Camelot. Trust me, I know." Merlin pries further, just as Arthur had known he would. Had _feared_ he would.

Arthur fully turns his head to study Merlin. "Why are you asking now?" He poses the question back. "How I spent the year never seemed to matter before, so why does it now?" He knows that his voice is a little harsher than necessary, but he's really hoping that if he is brusque enough, that Merlin will just drop it. Sadly, he doesn't have much luck.

Merlin's face goes through several different emotions before once more settling into a frown. "Arthur, what you do always matters. It's been selfish of me not to inquire about how you were while I was gone. We always talked about me, what I did. Never once did I return the favour."

The atmosphere between them almost seems to stifle. Arthur shifts in his seat, averting his gaze to once again gaze into the fire. When Merlin had never asked, he had assumed that the man had picked up on Arthur's reluctance to talk about it. Maybe he was finally respecting his privacy. Clearly, that course of thought had been foolish. It had also apparently just worn out.

"Perhaps," Arthur starts slowly, "we never spoke of me, and my time alone, because I never wanted to." He makes sure to lace his tone with a warning, indirectly telling Merlin to back off. Merlin just looks at him and quirks his head.

"Arthur, please. What happened while I was gone?" Merlin says softly, voice as gentle as a kitten. Arthur still bristles, gritting his teeth.

Turning harsh eyes on him, Arthur asks, "Why do you _never_ just do as you're told? Why can't you just drop this?"

Merlin nearly glares back, but manages to school his expression to calmly neutral. "Because you are important to me, and I care about you. I want to know how you were while I wasn't here to see you, to talk to you." He replies, almost impassively. A surge of anger flares up in Arthur's stomach. _How dare he_ _?_

"If you really cared, Merlin, you would know when to back off." He snaps. "As you apparently don't know, then fine. We'll talk about this." He gets to his feet and strides away a few steps, needing the illusion of solitude.

"Arthur." Merlin's voice behind him makes him tense.

"Merlin." The King replies snippily. "If you want me to talk, then sit down and shut up." He hears the man grudgingly obey. Arthur closes his eyes, breathing deep a few times to try to collect his thoughts. He doesn't even really know where to begin. Once his body feels a little calmer, he finally turns back to face Merlin. The illusional solitude wasn't working anyway.

"Do you have any idea how it felt? To think that I had lost you to some evil curse? When I finally reached you, I thought that was it. I had you back. Only I didn't, did I? And then to watch the life all but leave your eyes, all because my hand sunk a blade into your side?" Arthur stops for a moment, dropping his eyes. They snap back up, however, when he hears an inhale of breath. His dark look makes Merlin sag, words poised to leave his tongue dying unsaid in his mouth.

Slowly, Arthur starts again. "I was terrified that I was going to lose you before I ever really had the chance to have you. I think I knew, deep down, that I was going to lose you anyway. I had a feeling, before I even saw you after the battle, that you were going to leave. Still, that didn't prepare me to hear the words leave your lips. I had to sit back and watch you slip through my fingers like smoke."

He pauses to collect his thoughts once more before continuing. "After you left, I had hopes that I would hear from you soon. Maybe you would physically stay away, but I would still have contact with you. Gradually, as the silence grew longer, that hope died. I didn't want to accept the fact that you were gone for good, but I was left with very few other choices. Eventually, I made as much peace as I could with the fact that, in the end, I had lost you anyway."

Merlin shifts, as if to get up, mouth open to say something, before he seems to think better of it. He sinks back into his chair, having kept his promise to not interrupt. His eyes are glassy, and for a brief moment, Arthur almost gains some kind of pleasure at hurting the man back. The feeling soon disappears to be replaced by guilt.

Looking over at the window instead, Arthur says, "I did my best to keep busy, to not think of you and what I had lost. They always say it's impossible to miss that which you never had, but _oh_ , how I mourned the loss of you. You were my closest confidante. The first real friend I ever had, who was not merely seeking status, or power, or money. You saw me for who I was as a person, and I loved you for it. I spent my days pushing that love aside, burying it down until I was hollow."

Now, Merlin does get to his feet. "Arthur." He breathes softly, reverently. Arthur looks back at him, sees his unshed tears reflected back in those blue eyes that sometimes shone the most beautiful gold. Merlin seems to flounder for words, debating on what he should say, or do, before settling on gripping one of Arthur's hands tightly, and whispering, "I'm sorry."

Arthur gives him a wan smile. "I know." He stares into Merlin's endless blue eyes for a moment before slowly extricating his hand from Merlin's grip. He watches as something breaks in Merlin's eyes. Once he's free, he repeats, "I know. But that doesn't really change anything, does it?"

The King watches as Merlin's brow furrows in confusion. "What do you mean?" He asks hoarsely, causing Arthur to huff out an unamused laugh.

"I mean," he says, "that everything that happened while you were gone, all that has happened since your return, none if it matters. You're still planning on leaving anyway, for whatever heroic and misplaced reasons that you have."

Merlin looks surprised for a moment before he scowls. "I'm leaving for you." He says heatedly. "To keep you safe. Do you think I _want_ to leave again? To have nowhere to go?"

Arthur grits his teeth. "Did it ever occur to you that I can take care of myself?" He growls. Merlin almost sneers at him. The King can see the muscles twitching in his jaw.

"Of course I know you can take care of yourself, you _prat_." Merlin grinds out through his own clenched teeth. "What I'm trying to say is that I don't want to be the reason that you're in danger. If leaving is what keeps you safe, then why can't you see why I have to do this? If you were in my place, would you not do the same to protect the one that you love?" Merlin's tone and eyes are hard and challenging. Arthur swallows, eyes flitting over Merlin's body before settling steadily on his face.

"I would do anything to protect you, Merlin. Including sacrificing myself." Arthur replies, voice going low and soft. When Merlin looks like he's about to say something, Arthur holds up a hand to stop him. "But tell me this: are you willing to sacrifice your love's heart to keep their body safe? Or would you rather stay by their side, and protect their whole self?"

Merlin looks shocked for a moment, eyes wide. Arthur smiles sadly, feeling the fight leave his body. He turns on his heel and makes for the door, ignoring Merlin's weak protests calling him back. He can't be here right now. He can't look Merlin in the eye, and hear about how Merlin still plans to break his heart, somehow arguing that it's the better course of action. The more noble.

Once outside his chambers, Arthur moves down the hall. He's vaguely aware of the trembling in his hands. He clenches his fists and sets his jaw, pushing his steps to be more purposeful. He has no idea where he is going, merely knowing that he can't be _here_. Not right now, anyway. Pushing the surging emotions in his chest back down where he wants them proves difficult, and he struggles to wrangle them back under control. How blind had he been to think he could keep Merlin? To have him to love and hold? The man was a force of nature, who was undecided on whether he wanted to be tamed or not.


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin is gone by the time Arthur returns to his chambers a few hours later. For a heart-stopping moment, panic and fear clutch at Arthur's chest as he looks around and doesn't see the man waiting for him. It slowly recedes as he spots a few of Merlin's things lingering around, and he realizes that Merlin had simply left the room, not the city altogether. His whirlwind of emotions that kicked up at the thought of Merlin being gone are soon replaced by annoyance at the fact that Merlin hadn't stuck around until Arthur returned. He quickly pushes that aside too as he scolds himself. It was _he_ who had left in the first place, unable to be in Merlin's company any longer. It was only natural that Merlin should leave too, had he wanted to.

He feels remorseful as he steps further into the room. He probably shouldn't have been so harsh to Merlin. He probably should have stayed, and talked things out with him. Talking had never been one of his strong suits, not when it came to matters such as these anyway. He was much better at diplomacy than emotions. Still, Merlin deserved better.

A knock at the door makes him jump, and he turns to see David peeking meekly in through the partly opened door. "Sire? You were not here when I brought breakfast. Would you like me to fetch you something to eat before training?"

Arthur knows that he should eat, but he feels too queasy at the moment to even think about food. "No, David, that's all right. I believe I am running late enough already as it is." He replies, eyes darting to the sun shining in through the open curtains.

"Shall I get you ready then, Sire?" David asks, taking a few more tentative steps into the room. Arthur smiles mildly.

"Yes. That is probably a good idea. If I keep Sir Gwaine waiting too long, I'll never hear the end of it." The King replies, already moving to where he knows his armour is kept. Back when Merlin was his servant, he had insisted on keeping Arthur's armour up here. At the time, Arthur had always assumed it was because he was too lazy to trek all the way down to the armoury to fetch it. Now, he's realized that it was because there was a much slighter chance of anyone messing with it when it was under such constant watchful eyes.

David bows his head in a respectful manner, and then moves fully into the room, letting the door close behind him. They both lapse into silence as David slowly gets Arthur ready, deft hands doing up buckles and knots. There are no lingering touches like there were when Merlin used to do this. No unnecessary brushes of fingers on bare skin. David does his job properly, as any respectful and trained servant should. Arthur feels a pang in his gut as he suddenly feel Merlin's absence.

"Your helmet and sword, my Lord." David says, holding each item out in either hand. Arthur smiles at him cordially, taking the sword first and sliding it into place on his left hip. He acutely remembers Merlin crowding close to do that for him, and he vaguely wonders what Merlin is currently doing. He then takes the helmet, and holds it under his arm.

"Thank you, David. There is no call for you to be down at the grounds with me. You may resume your duties here as usual." The King says.

"Of course, Sire." David says, ducking his head in a small bow again. Arthur turns and starts toward the door, before stopping and looking back.

"Did Merlin happen to be here when you arrived with breakfast this morning?" He asks, curious but trying his best to sound uninterested. He is painfully aware that his nonchalance is not working.

David nods. "He was, my Lord. He left shortly after I arrived, said he was going out for a walk."

Arthur purses his lips. "Did he happen to say where?" He asks, his brain to mouth filter apparently throwing discretion out the window. He was worried, dammit.

To his dismay, David shakes his head. "No. He did not, my Lord. I'm sorry."

"Not to worry." Arthur replies easily, waving a hand vaguely, as if trying to brush away the servant's concerns. "I will see you after training." He adds, then continues on his way to his chamber doors.

He glances up and down the halls as he leaves his chambers behind, subconsciously hoping to find Merlin loitering in the halls nearby. Both left and right are decidedly Merlin-less, and Arthur squares his shoulders and starts to make his way through the castle toward the training grounds outside. As he goes, he forces himself to focus more on the task at hand than on the wayward warlock. It was a beautiful day for training. The sun was out, but it wasn't too hot. A session of good, hard exercise would do his mind good.

"Ah, the Princess has arrived." Sir Gwaine's distinct voice rings out as Arthur approaches his group of knights. The King smiles patiently. He had somehow gotten used to Gwaine's obvious disregard for the proper titles and ways of addressing his king.

"Sorry I am late. Something important came up." He lies, not wanting to admit that he had, had an argument with Merlin, and then stomped off in an effort to cool his flaring temper before being in the presence of anyone else.

Gwaine coughs slightly. "I don't suppose that _Something Important_ started with an M and ended with an N?" He says cheekily into his fist, muffling the words only slightly. Arthur shoots him a glare. Gwaine had, rather unfortunately, picked up on the shift in Arthur's relationship with Merlin, and had been anything but discreet about it ever since. Arthur was honestly surprised that the whole kingdom wasn't barraging him with questions by now.

Arthur's glare turns into an evil smirk (in Gwaine's opinion) as an idea comes to mind. "Break off into pairs. We'll be sparring today. Gwaine, you're with me." He says, feeling a spark of satisfaction as the knight's smug expression falls just a little bit. Oh, he was going to have fun with this.

Half an hour later, Arthur was sweating as Gwaine lay on his back, panting hard. He would no doubt have bruises later, and he looked suitably chastened. Arthur prided himself in that fact, as Gwaine did not often outwardly show when he had learned his lesson. To show that there are no hard feelings between them, Arthur grins and holds out his hand for Gwaine to take. The knight doesn't hesitate, grasping the King's hand, and using their combined strength to haul himself more easily to his feet.

"You did well today, Gwaine. Your footwork is much improved." He comments as the other man brushes blades of uprooted grass from his backside.

"Thank you." Gwaine replies sincerely. He glances around before leaning closer. "Is everything all right with Merlin?"

Arthur looks at him in surprise, wondering what exactly Gwaine already knew. "Things have been a little... _strained_ , as of late. Why?" He says slowly, almost suspiciously.

Gwaine merely shrugs. "I don't know. Just a feeling, maybe. He's been acting strange these last few weeks, almost like he's been hiding something. Or he's up to something. I'm a little worried about him, honestly."

A thick silence ensues as Arthur goes over Gwaine's words. So he, too, has noticed Merlin's behaviour change. If anyone would, it would be Gwaine or Lancelot. They were the two who were closest to him, after all. Perhaps Merlin went so far as to confide in one, or both, of them. But how does Arthur go about asking without looking like he is prying into Merlin's life? Before he can really think over a way to voice his questions, he hears a metallic clang ring out. Glancing over, he sees Sir Geriant looming over Sir Geroch, sword tip harmlessly pointed at his chest.

"Gwaine," Arthur says, pulling the man's attention back to him, "if you hear anything about Merlin that you feel is important, pass it on to me. No matter how small."

Gwaine goes to frown before somehow managing to stop himself. "Of course. Is he in trouble?"

Once again, Arthur purses his lips. "I'm not entirely sure, but if past experiences have taught me anything, it's that Merlin is almost _always_ in trouble."

Before Gwaine can respond, Arthur turns to the rest of the knights. "That's good. Now switch partners and go again. This time I'll be watching you, so make sure you focus on your form."

The knights all move to switch into new pairs, Gwaine passing Arthur to step back into the mix. He gives Arthur a significant looks, eyes questioning further in silence, but Arthur ignores it. He had come out here today in the hopes of his usual training being successful in pushing thoughts of Merlin from his head. He definitely didn't need Gwaine bringing them back.

~~~

The air around the camp was thick with excitement and suspense. A few of Gurald's men had been dispatched shortly after Nathaniel's initial agreement with the man, sent to find more men willing to help. A dozen men would not go far against the knights of Camelot. Nathaniel had been a little worried about this prospect, but Gurald had merely smiled and assured him that there was no end to the men lurking in the forests around the city who would have no qualms about bringing it to its knees.

Nathaniel was getting antsy. He knew that his departure from Camelot had been necessary. No one else would've been able to enlist the help of these men. Still, that didn't quiet the uneasiness he had in his chest about not knowing what was happening back in the city. Had Merlin already attacked again? What would he find upon his return?

"Relax, lad." Gurald's voice suddenly says beside him. "We shall be moving on Camelot soon."

A thrill runs through Nathaniel's body. "How can you be so sure?" He asks, glancing around at the admittedly meager number of men in the camp.

Gurald gestures to one in particular. "Simon came back already. He met up with a few camps of men, all who have agreed to meet us near Camelot in a few hours time."

That thrill grows in size. "Has anyone else returned?" He asks. To his disappointment, Gurald shakes his head.

"Not yet, no, but my men know these trees well. If anyone can find camps of fellow mercenaries and misfits, it's these gents." He swipes a hand over to encompass all the rugged men going about packing up their camp.

Nathaniel nods, pleased. "Do you really believe we will get enough men to successfully take Merlin and his supporters down?" He asks.

The man beside him pauses thoughtfully for a moment before slowly nodding. "Aye, I do believe so. Granted, no matter how many men we have, this endeavour of yours shan't be easy. Blood will be spilled." He warns. All the warning does is harden Nathaniel's resolve.

"I am aware that there will be certain sacrifices." He replies simply. "All good things come with a price."

Gurald claps him on the back. "There's a good lad. Once you've learned that lesson, life gets a hell of a lot simpler."

Silence falls over the two as they both think about the events about to unfold. Nathaniel admittedly feels a little bad that some people may suffer needlessly. He could only hope that when all was said and done, that the people of Camelot would be able to see that he had only their best interests at heart.

Gurald's voice breaks him from his thoughts. "When we get to the city, you go looking for this sorcerer of yours. Leave the rest to us, and don't you worry a hair on your head about what we do."

Nathaniel cocks his head to the side slightly. "What do you mean?" He asks with a frown.

The bandit leader smiles cruelly. "We will do what needs doing. Don't you worry about it. Our job is to make sure you succeed. Any opposition will be taken care of, in whatever way is needs to be done."

There's a gleam in the man's eye that sets Nathaniel's nerves slightly on edge. He swallows his worries down and nods. Whatever needs to be done, must be done. For the good of Camelot, they could not fail. No matter what that victory meant in the long run. Merlin was a bigger threat. He knew that.

A sudden disturbance to their left makes them both look over. Another of Gurald's men has returned, and he has a triumphant air about him. Judging by the smug smile, Nathaniel would say that he had been successful. Gurald must think the same, as he cheers slightly as he waves the man over.

"What news do you bring me?" He asks, clasping a strong hand down on the man's shoulder.

The man grins, showing yellowed, and missing teeth. "Tyrone has agreed to help us. He has many men himself, as well as connections to other people. He will send word for his own reinforcements, and meet us at the city when it is time."

Gurald grins wider. "Good man. I knew I could count on you. No go, help the others pack."

The man obediently moves off. Nathaniel watches him go. The early bloom of success is taking root in his chest prematurely. He just might be able to pull this off. The power he feels at the thought is intoxicating, filling him up so completely that he can almost taste it.

"Best get yourself prepared, my friend." Gurald says, clapping him hard on the back a few times. "I foresee that we will be on our way soon."

Nathaniel watches as Gurald moves off to join his men. After a moment, Nathaniel moves too. His horse snuffles at his outstretched hand when he reaches it, and he runs light fingers over the soft hair of the gelding's nose. He feels calm, which he knows won't last. Whatever serenity he is feeling now is merely the calm before the storm. Once their plan is fully in motion, he has no doubts that he will feel fire in his veins.

"By nightfall," Nathaniel murmurs into his horse's ear, "Merlin will have paid for what he did. With his life. And all those who currently support him will either see sense, or join him in death." He absently strokes the bay's muscly, brown neck. "Not much longer now."

~~~

Normally, when Merlin sits in the garden, he feels peaceful. There is a certain kind of serenity that comes from being surrounded by such secluded beauty. Now, however, he feels conflicted. He hadn't honestly expected his decision to leave to be met with glowing smiles and words of encouragement, but he had hoped that at least someone would share his view on things. Making this decision without anyone agreeing with him was proving to be very difficult.

His sighs wearily as he leans back on his hands, tilting his face up tp the sun. The grass is lush below him, reacting to the turmoil of his magic within, and somehow growing thicker around him. It had been a good few years since his magic had reacted to his emotions like that. He digs his fingers into the green blades around him, and tries to calm his mind. It doesn't work. As soon as he tries to empty all thoughts from his head, Arthur's golden halo of hair pops into the foreground.

Snapping his eyes open, he looks around the garden. He had always done his best thinking here. He felt the most connected to nature, to the very magic making up the whole world, right here. Even now, with his thoughts and emotions scrambled and swirling, he can feel the steady thrum of life beneath him. It makes his fingers tingle where they are buried in the soil. For some reason, the feeling reminds him of Arthur. Of how the man makes him feel whenever he is close to him.

This train of thought almost seems to spiral, and he just lets it go. Clearly his subconscious was insistent on analyzing everything King Arthur Pendragon related, and maybe if he let it have its way, he'll be able to move on in peace afterward. With his, probably foolish, decision make, he closes his eyes and lays back in the grass. He can feel the buzz of the magic around him through his whole body now, and he lets it in. Lets in encircle him, and wrap around him. In some ways, he welcomes the warmth it brings. In others, he wishes he could just be left alone.

Unbidden, images of Arthur rush to the surface. The glowing, youthful, arrogant face from his first few days in Camelot. The look of wonder on his face as he uttered the words, _"There's something about you, Merlin."_ Even now, those words make Merlin's heartrate increase. He recalls the look on Arthur's face when he popped by Gaius' chambers to see how Merlin was doing after he had gone against his father's wishes and left on a quest to save his manservant's life. He remembers the flood of warmth that the Prince's ill-concealed concern had created in his chest. He remembers vividly the sick feeling of fear he had felt grip his entire being when he realized that Arthur had been bitten by the Questing Beast.

Colourful flashes of memory parade across his open mind, and he sighs wistfully. So many things had happened between him and Arthur, and he wouldn't change a thing. Not the bad, and certainly not the good. However, try as he might, certain unwanted memories surface as well. Blood. Fire. Pain. A desperate press of chapped lips to his, then the piercing pain of a blade sliding expertly between his ribs.

Gasping, his eyes fly open. He can almost feel the phantom pain of that moment. Even then he had loved Arthur. Especially then. The king had saved him. Had saved all of Camelot. That curse, and the ensuring events, were the one thing that Merlin desperately wished he could change, even if they had been the catalyst for their changing relationship. He would rather have Arthur as his friend for the rest of time, than to have him as a lover and lose him for good.

Merlin groans and sits up, cursing his subconscious for bringing those awful memories back. He feels a shiver down his spine as he recalls that oily voice in his head. The one that had sounded exactly like him, but urged him to kill. To destroy. How it had longed for blood and pain. He very nearly feels sick just at the thought of it, and what it had turned him into. It didn't matter if he had been stopped in the end.

His magic prickles at his fingers, wanting to be let out. He resists its call, knowing that performing magic in broad daylight, no matter how secluded he may be, was a very foolish idea. Ignoring his magic for now, he once again thinks back to what Arthur had said before. _"Are you willing to sacrifice your love's heart to keep their body safe? Or would you rather stay by their side, and protect their whole self?"_

If only it were that simple, Merlin thinks bitterly. Of course he doesn't want to hurt Arthur, but what choice did he have when the alternative could very possibly lead to Arthur's demise? Yes, he knew that Arthur could look after himself, but he couldn't defend himself against magic. Not properly anyway. Merlin couldn't be with him every single second of every single day. What if someone struck at Arthur when Merlin wasn't there to protect him? Or worse, what if another sorcerer felt Merlin's returning power and used another curse to turn Merlin against his king, and his home, again? Merlin couldn't risk being turned into a monster again. He already couldn't forgive himself for last time. If he somehow managed to kill the king while under the influence of another, the consequences of that would be worse than death for Merlin. The very thought of anything happening to Arthur killed him. The thought of himself being the one to harm him was... purely unthinkable.

Merlin stiffens as he feels eyes watching him. Stealthily using his magic, he peers around his surroundings, searching for the disturbance. _There_. The bush rustles as he focuses on it. Did they know that they had been caught? Slowly, he gets to his feet and tries to approach as unobtrusively as possible.

"I know you are there." He says as he stops. "Come out, and tell me what you want." He only has to wait a moment before a woman emerges, leaves stuck in her streaky hair. Merlin cocks his head to the side, studying her as she sneers back at him.

"I'm not telling you nothing." She says heatedly. Merlin twitches an eyebrow up.

"It was you, up on the wall, wasn't it?" He asks. The woman tightens her jaw, but he can see her answer in her eyes. She can't lie to him. "What was it that you were looking for? Why spy on me, of all people?"

The woman pulls her lips back as her scowl deepens. "Because you are dangerous." She spits. "We need to keep an eye on you until he returns."

Merlin looks at her in interest. "Until who returns?" He asks. Was this what he was worried about? Someone finally coming to take their revenge?

The woman bares her teeth in what was probably supposed to be a smile. "Your doom." She crows. "He's going to return, and you will cease to exist. The threat you bring to us all will cease to exist with you."

A jolt of shock runs through him. _Threat?_ What threat? He meant no harm to Camelot, or its people. The little voice in the back of his head pipes up, filling his head with selfish taunts. _'If that was true, then why are you leaving? You have so little faith in yourself, that the only way you can think to protect those around you is to never be around them again. You view yourself as a threat. Why not them as well?'_

The woman smiles victoriously. "Yes, sorcerer filth. You are going to get what's coming to you. You and all those around you."

That statement brings Merlin sharply out of his thoughts. "All those around me?" He asks, confused. "No one else is a part of this."

The woman shrugs, taking a step back to leave. Merlin snakes a hand out without thinking, and latches onto her wrist. She looks down at it for a moment, alarm flashing in her eyes. She gives her hand a tug, but Merlin only tightens his grip. He wants answers, _needs_ answers, and this woman can give them to him.

"Let me go." She hisses.

"No." Merlin says. "Not until you tell me what you mean."

She struggles more, eyes drifting around until latching onto something over his shoulder. Merlin only has a second to wonder what she's looking at before an explosion of pain erupts across the back of his head. His hand opens as he reaches for his head reflexively. Spinning on his heel, he spots a man behind him, large chunk of wood grasped tightly in both hands. Clearly the woman wasn't working alone. A quick glance around tells Merlin that he is very much alone, except for these two people who very obviously do not wish him well.

The man swings the wood again, and Merlin moves to block it, leaving himself open for the woman to lash out at. She kicks at the back of his right knee, making it buckle under his weight. He calls upon his magic a second too late as the wood connects hard with the side of his head. He gasps involuntarily as he drops to the ground, stars bursting at the edges of his vision.

"We can't have you going to warn His Majesty just yet, now can we?" The woman asks, face swimming blurrily in his field of vision. One more blow, and his entire world fades to black, only one thought on his mind. _Arthur_.


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing that Merlin becomes aware of as he blinks awake, is the painful throbbing in his head. He groans as he shifts on the ground, momentarily confused as to why it's grass and dirt underneath him, instead of soft blankets and fluffy pillows. His eyes flutter madly for a minute or so as he tries to reorient himself, and remember where exactly he is. And why does his head hurt to badly?

Very slowly, he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, making note of how his arms shake under his weight. Shifting back onto his knees fully, he gingerly lifts a hand to his head, gasping in pain as he feels a steadily growing lump above his ear. What happened? His vision is still fuzzy and dark around the edges as he looks around. Okay, he is in the garden in Camelot. He vaguely remembers coming here after speaking with Arthur earlier that morning. They'd had an argument, of sorts, and Arthur had left. Merlin hadn't wanted to stay in his chambers alone, so he had ventured outside shortly after.

His head pulses with pain as he tries to think harder, to make the memories become sharper. He clutches a hand to the side of his head without the goose-egg forming, and squeezes his eyes shut. God, his head just hurt so much. What had happened?

The face of a woman swims into view behind his closed eyelids, and he gasps again. He forces his eyes open and he looks around the garden in vain. They, whoever _they_ were, would be long gone by now. Slowly, the memories come back. He had sensed the woman's presence, and had confronted her. She hadn't seemed overly scared or worried of him, but that was probably because she knew back up was nearby. The man who had hit him. She had said something, something important, but what was it?

Another ripple of pain pulses through his head, and he very nearly drops to all fours again. Whoever that man had been, he was damn strong. Or simply knew enough to aim for the perfect spot on his head to cause the most damage without killing him. He clenches his jaw, hands forming into tight fists as he closes his eyes and tries to push past the pain. He had to remember. It was vitally important that he remember.

Arthur. It was something he had to tell Arthur. Something he had to warn the King about. More pain throbs insistently behind his eyes as he forces himself to recall the woman's words. She had mentioned a man. Someone who had apparently left, but would be returning soon. Why? What was this man planning to do? A sudden vision of hot, orange flames dancing dangerously along blood splashed cobblestones makes him double over. _Oh. Right._

Merlin tries to struggle to his feet, slumping back down into the dirt a few times before he can properly get his feet under him. An unknown man was coming to Camelot for _him._ He wanted to exact his revenge on Merlin by taking his life. However, it was not this fact that had him frantically pulling himself to his feet. No, he was worried about the fact that this unknown man apparently had do problems with cutting down anyone in his path to get to Merlin. Including, Merlin had to assume, the king.

He staggers to the wall of the castle, head swimming and somehow pounding even more now that he was upright and moving. Screwing his eyes shut, he takes a few deep breaths in a vain attempt to steady himself before pushing off the wall to continue. He had to get to Arthur. God, how long have he been unconscious? Was he already too late? No, he couldn't be, because he was still very much alive. Unless he wasn't, and this was all a version of his own personal hell.

His boot catches on a root, and he goes down hard, his hands flying out to catch himself. The impact with the ground jars his wrists and knees, and he grits his teeth against the sting in his palms. Pushing back up to his feet, he brushes the small stones from his skinned palms, and carries on. _He had to get to Arthur._

Upon rounding the side of the castle, he finds the courtyard as busy and bustling with activity as ever. The sight both relaxes him, and sends a jolt of fear straight through to his heart. If the people were not in a panic, then clearly no one had attacked the city in search of him. However, the two he had encountered in the garden looked like unassuming, albeit poor, members of Camelot society. Whoever this man was, he could undoubtedly blend in just as well. He could be anyone. Which put Arthur in even more immediate danger.

Stopping to both think and catch his breath, he tries to figure out the best place to look for Arthur. Where was he most likely to be at this point in the day? That question just made more questions pop up. Like, what time of day was it? How long had he been unconscious in the garden, with no one aware of where he was? If he had been missing for long enough, then Merlin would have a hell of a time getting Arthur to listen to him in the first place. The king would be too busy ranting at him about letting people know where he was going. In hindsight, that piece of hypothetical advice wasn't actually all that bad.

_The training grounds!_ Arthur had a planned session with the knights that morning, and depending on how long Merlin had been out, he may still be there. On decidedly wobbly legs, Merlin pushes off from the wall again and makes his way toward the stretch of pristine grass that the knights used to swing their swords around in an attempt to impress the fair maidens who sometimes stopped by to watch. Or, that's always how Merlin described it when he was trying to rile Arthur up. It almost always worked.

Merlin's heart starts to sink as he gets closer and doesn't hear the telltale metallic clang of swords clashing. Sure enough, once he stumbles close enough, he finds the patch empty. He curses under his breath, lifting a hand to rub futilely at his pounding head as he tries to think where else the king could be at that very moment.

"Merlin, is everything okay?" Sir Elyan asks, Merlin swings his head around to look at him, and immediately regrets it as his vision swims and blurs. "Merlin?"

"Elyan." He gasps croakily. "Where's Arthur?"

He gets a quizzical look in return. "The last I saw him was after training when he was heading to the castle. I assumed he was going to his chambers to clean up." Sir Elyan replies. "Why? Merlin, did something happen? You look dreadful."

"No." Merlin replies. "Yes. Look, I don't have time to explain. I need to get to Arthur."

He goes to spin and hurry to the castle again, but almost lands in a heap as the pain in his head makes the edges of his vision go black. Two strong hands catch him, keeping him upright. Merlin sags a little in their grip.

"Merlin, calm down. I'll help you get to Arthur. Why don't you tell me what happened?" The knight says as he pulls Merlin's right arm up around his shoulders. Merlin feels an arm wrap snugly around his waist, helping to support his weight as they start taking half-staggered steps toward the stone staircase leading up to the main citadel doors.

"There's someone coming to attack Camelot." He pants out. "Or, well, more specifically me, but he'll try to go through anyone who tries to stop him." He whimpers slightly as Elyan picks up the pace, and the pain in his head pulses in defiance.

"Who? Who is coming to attack?" The man asks as they reach the steps.

Merlin goes to shake his head, but stops himself just in time. "I don't know. I never got a name, only had a run in with two of his supporters. I caught them spying on me, and they did their best to make sure I couldn't warn anyone in time." He's nearly out of breath as he looks up at the seemingly endless set of steps.

Elyan pauses at the base of the steps. "Perhaps this would be faster if you waited here, and I went to get Arthur myself. I'll bring Gaius too, as you have sustained quite a blow to the head."

Merlin scrunches up his nose, ready to argue, but the words die as he leans forward and promptly vomits on the stairs. He nods wearily, seeing the sense in Elyan's words. He will, no doubt, be able to track down Arthur faster by himself. There is also a better chance of Arthur not ranting at him first if Elyan gives him a brief rundown of what's happening.

"Yeah, okay." Merlin half-wheezes, half-coughs. Elyan leads him around to the end of the first step, and gingerly helps him sit down.

"Stay here." Elyan orders unnecessarily. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He starts to move off, but turns back. "Oh and Merlin, stay awake. You can't fall asleep with your head like that."

Merlin huffs a laugh, wondering where the knight had learned that, but knows very well that it's true. Gaius had told him several times that head injuries were finicky, and dangerous if the patient were to slip out of consciousness. He leans back on the step behind him, merely focusing on breathing. He hears Elyan rush off, and hopes that he finds the king soon, before it was too late.

~~~

Arthur was sitting at his desk, mulling over his seemingly never-ending pile of paperwork, when he is interrupted by a loud and hurried knock on the door. The sound is immediately followed by the telltale sound of the door being opened, and Arthur looks up, fully expecting Merlin to come striding in, seeing as he is one of the only ones who never waits for consent to enter. To his surprise, it isn't Merlin who comes rushing in, but Elyan.

"Elyan," he says, raising his eyebrows, "what can I do for you?"

"It's Merlin, Sire." The man replies. Arthur instantly tenses. A closer look over his knight shows clear signs of stress and worry.

The King is already getting to his feet as he asks, "What about Merlin? Has something happened?"

Elyan nods. "He was attacked, but says he was told of an impending attack on Camelot first. He would have come to you himself, but he sustained a head injury, and we both agreed it would be faster if I came alone."

Arthur can feel himself pale. "Go get Gaius to meet us where you left him. I'll go to Merlin now."

"He is outside on the main steps." Elyan calls as Arthur moves past him. The King pauses at the door to nod at him before rushing out the door. He's about to rush down the hall, when he thinks better of it.

"Pasha." He turns to his guards. "Send word to the council. There has been rumours of an impending attack on the city. We must prepare ourselves." The man in question nods, and Arthur sets off again.

Arthur blinks a few times as he finally bursts back out into the sunlight. His frantic eyes scan for Merlin, and find him right here Elyan said he would. His heart squeezes as he looks over the man slumped on the stairs, hands clutching his head. His heart stutters for a moment as he takes in the tense curve of Merlin's back, the hard line of his shoulders.

Arthur speaks gently as he gets to Merlin's side, belying the worry in his gut. "Merlin?"

Merlin jolts slightly, wincing as he lifts his head. "Arthur." He sounds equal parts relieved and anxious.

The King settles on his knees on the ground just below the step Merlin is sitting on. Settling his hands on Merlin's knees, he looks up into his pain filled eyes. He flicks his eyes over Merlin's face, but sees no blood. For a brief moment, he feels a rush of relief, before he pushes it down. Just cause there was no blood apparent did not mean that he wasn't badly injured.

"Merlin, Elyan told me that you were attacked. What happened?" He asks.

The warlock winces again. "I was in the garden when I felt someone watching me." He says, clearly struggling to focus properly on Arthur's face. "It was a woman I had never seen before, but she was the same one who had been up on the wall and listening to me and Gwen. When I confronted her, she told me that someone was coming to kill me and anyone who stood with me, then a man struck me over the head. Repeatedly."

Arthur bites his lip as Merlin trails off, hands burying in his dark hair. "Did she say who was coming?" He asks.

Merlin slowly shakes his head no. "No, she just kept referring to whoever it was as _he_. She said that they had been told to keep an eye on me because I was dangerous."

"Dangerous?" The King asks. "Why would they think that?"

"I don't know, Arthur, what do you think?" Merlin snaps back sarcastically, flinching as his head throbs.

"You have been back for almost two years, Merlin, and no one has said or done anything. Why would they suddenly turn on you now? No one knows about your magic returning." Arthur replies, dropping the volume of his voice so no one nearby could overhear him.

To his surprise, Merlin winces as he replies, "If they've been watching me for a while, then they must've seen me at night."

The King's eyebrows draw together. "What are you talking about?"

Blue eyes dart away from his. "My magic, its's gotten stronger than I've let on. Sometimes it demands to be let out, so I started sneaking off at night. Lately I've been going down to the fields around the city and using my magic to help promote growth of the crops. I've also been helping Gaius with his remedies, saving people who would otherwise be incurable." Merlin admits.

A silence follows Merlin's words as Arthur's brain scrambles to link all the dots together. Merlin's magic was coming back, to the point where he had to let it out once in a while. However, instead of using his magic superfluously, he had chosen to help the citizens of Camelot in secret. Now that he knew, he honestly felt stupid that he hadn't see it sooner. The King refuses to acknowledge to sting that Merlin hadn't trusted to come to him for help.

Before he can question Merlin further, Elyan and Gaius appear outside. The physician hurries down to Merlin's side, and Arthur gets to his feet and backs off as the older man looks Merlin over. He stands in silence for a moment before turning to Elyan beside him.

"We must fill everyone in on what is happening, and get prepared. We may know an attack is coming, but we have no idea when. The army and the citizens have to prepare themselves for war." He says quietly. Elyan nods.

"Yes, Sire. Pasha has already alerted the council. As far as I know, everyone is convening in the Council Chambers as we speak." Sir Elyan replies. Arthur nods, lips pursed in thought.

Finally, he says, "Very good. I want you to go and meet them now. Tell them all you know. I will be there shortly with Merlin. I have a feeling that we are going to need him there for this." His orders are met with another nod before Elyan bounds off back up the steps and into the castle. Arthur approaches Merlin and Gaius carefully.

"Is he going to be all right, Gaius?" He asks as the physician leans back a bit.

"Yes, I believe he will be fine. He has suffered what seems to be a concussion, but he will survive." Gaius replies, looking up at the King standing above them. Merlin looks up too, squinting his eyes half closed.

Arthur chews on his lip for a moment of uncertainty before asking, "Is he well enough to come to the Council Chambers to help us get ready for whatever attack is coming?"

Gaius settles his mouth into a thin line before sighing heavily through his nose. "I would prefer he get some rest, with a watchful eye of course, but yes. he should be well enough to go with you, so long as he doesn't over-exert himself." He gives both of them a bit of a reproachful look, eyebrow raised threateningly.

"Of course. You have my word." Arthur says. Gaius nods, relenting, as he gets to his feet. Arthur steps forward and leans down to wrap an arm around Merlin's shoulders, pulling him up as well. Merlin grumbles a bit at the quick change of position, but allows himself to be lead inside.

AS soon as the courtyard is out of view, Merlin says, "Arthur, the best thing that we can do is to just hand me over. It's me they want. I don't want anyone else getting hurt for me."

Arthur jolts to a halt, making Merlin groan as he staggers to a stop beside him. "I don't want to hear that suggestion again. I already nearly lost you once. I refuse to do it again."

Merlin scowls back, or tries to, at least. "And I already put you in grave danger once. Your life is not worth mine, Arthur. Just let me protect you."

The King growls as he spins to face Merlin, not giving the man a chance to react before he presses their lips together aggressively. He expects a fight, but Merlin sags against him, kissing him back just as desperately. He makes a breathy noise as Arthur nips at his lower lip, chasing the King's lips as he pulls away.

"That's enough, Merlin. You may believe that you were given your magic solely to protect me, but I was given my crown so I could protect my people. I am not giving you up to someone who I know wants to kill you. The knights of Camelot are the best in the land. Let them protect the city."

Merlin nods, wide-eyed. Arthur nods back. He moves back beside the warlock, tucking his arm back around his shoulders to continue helping him down the hall. No matter what, he was not letting Merlin get hurt again. Once was more than enough. He wasn't too worried about their chances of success. Whoever was seeking revenge on his love was clearly doing so because Merlin had magic. It was safe to assume that they themselves didn't have magic, or they would have understood the nature of the curse he had been under. They would've understood that it hadn't been his fault. No, whoever this man was, he was just as normal as the rest of them, and so, he could be defeated through normal means.

A dozen pairs of eyes look up as they enter. "You all know why we are here." Arthur says, gently settling Merlin down in a chair. "We don't know when we will be attacked, or by whom, and how many. I say we plan for the worst." And just like that, the meeting had begun.

~~~

Camelot looks unchanged as Nathaniel rides back into the city a short while later. He had agreed with Gurald that he should ride ahead of them, to talk over the plans with his supporters in the city. He was only given an hour, though, so he knew that he had to hurry. His luck seems to hold as he spots a familiar face shortly after entering the Lower Town.

"Frieda!" He calls, making the woman turn around. She looks around curiously, before spotting him in the crowd. She immediately grins and approaches.

"Nathaniel, you are back so soon. Were you successful?" She asks lowly, so as not to draw the attention of passersby.

He nods. "Yes. Send word to the others to gather in my home. You must hurry, as we do not have much time, and we have much to discuss." He whispers urgently. She nods and hurries off into the crowd, leaving him to journey to the local stable to hand over his horse. The journey through the streets of the Lower Town is short, but he still breathes a sigh of relief when the small, misshapen door of his home comes into view.

Four pairs of eyes blink at him as he enters, and he smiles. "Good, you're all here. Before I get into my bit, I want to know what you all have learned."

One by one, the men give their reports. The maid Guinevere was... uninteresting, was the way to put. She went to work in the citadel, and returned home as it grew dark. From there, she cooked, cleaned her own home, then retired for the night. The next morning, she started the process over again. She showed no signs of practicing any magic.

Gaius, too, was unremarkable. He went about his duties as physician in as non-magical a way as possible. He had fetched a servant who was not busy to go collect herbs for him, as he couldn't find Merlin _(this piqued Nathaniel's interest)_ , and then he, too, had retired for the night, only to start over again the next morning.

The king had been surly at best, and had seemed distracted. He hadn't shown any outward signs of conspiring with a sorcerer, but he had spent the better part of Nathaniel's time away looking like he had just sucked on a lemon. His usual duties involved in running the kingdom had been performed, but his mind had seemed elsewhere.

"I overheard the sorcerer and the maid talking up on the wall when they thought they were alone." Frieda says, a glint in her eyes. "He admits that his magic is back, stronger than he's let on. He also claims to be leaving soon, to keep everyone safe."

Nathaniel frowns. "Did he say when he was leaving? Is he still here now?" He asks, worried that he may have missed his chance, despite how quickly things had moved along.

The woman shakes her head. "He's still here. He, uh, may have caught me listening in when he was in the garden. Borin helped me escape when he tried to confront me." Her eyes flit away as she speaks, like she's hiding something. Borin, too, looks almost uneasy and guilty.

"What happened when he confronted you, before Borin stepped in?" He asks, voice growing hard.

Frieda swallows, keeping her eyes averted as she replies, "I accidentally let slip that you were coming for revenge. I didn't give any names, but he knows an attack is coming. He only thinks it's you coming, though, so they'll be unprepared for an army of mercenaries coming in to back you up."

Nathaniel's hand twitches, wanting to reach out and strike the woman for being so stupid. He doesn't, though. That will solve nothing. All he can hope for is that Merlin didn't alert the king too quickly about Nathaniel's intentions. The king would have taken any threat of attack very seriously, and so be very prepared for anything.

"I got him over the head pretty good." Borin pipes up. "He wouldn't have gotten to Arthur for a while." Nathaniel nods, feeling mildly appeased.

"It is no matter. Nathaniel says. "My men will be here within the hour. The king will have little time to prepare. Let us hope that Merlin remained as unuseful as possible, for as long as possible." He pauses to look over the four people crowded into his little home. "Now, let us go over the plan for when our attack commences."

He rushes through the basics, not wanting to add too many details in case one of them somehow gets recognized and taken in for questioning before Gurald and his reinforcements get here. He passes on only the details they need, like where he wants them to be, and what he wants them to be doing. They all nod in understanding, faces serious and eyes devious.

He glances around as he finishes. "If there are no questions, then go. We do not have much more time." They all nod one last time before starting to leave. As Frieda passes, he latches onto her wrist. "Frieda."

"Yes?" She asks, a slight tremor to her voice.

"I trust that you will not speak to anyone about our plans again." He says calmly, but with a hint of a warning lacing his tone that makes her eyes widen as she nods. "Good. It is of upmost importance that we succeed. Now go, join the others." He lets go, and she hurries away. Once alone, he takes a deep breath, already smelling the sweet scent of success. He almost feels drunk off the power that it gives him. _Not long now_. He smiles, and leaves.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be safe, if you find certain topics to be triggering then here is my warning to read tags before reading this chapter.

Merlin chews on his lower lip as he watches everyone in the Council Chambers get ready to leave. They all had their orders, they were all in agreement as to what to do. None of them seemed overly concerned. They were treating the threat of an attack seriously, of course, but they seemed confident in their abilities to fend off said attack. Something about it all was making Merlin feel uneasy. Something felt wrong.

Arthur turns to him as the last person leaves, and says, "You should go see Gaius. For your head." His statement is met with a shrewd look.

"I've already seen Gaius." Merlin replies. "Seeing him again isn't going to make my head magically better. Besides, I'm needed here."

"Listen, Merlin." Arthur says hesitantly, and immediately Merlin feels on edge. When the King doesn't continue, he lifts an eyebrow.

"Yes?" He pushes.

Arthur swallows, looking uncomfortable, before saying, "I think you should sit this one out. You're already injured, and you heard Gaius. You're not supposed to over-exert yourself. Let us handle this, it's what we're trained to do."

He seems to realize his mistake in wording at about the same time that Merlin scowls at him. "What, are you worried that I'm only going to get in you way? Slow you down?" Merlin asks heatedly.

"Of course not." Arthur replies tartly.

"Then what? Cause it's not like I'm dropping dead at the moment." Merlin shoots back.

Arthur looks conflicted as he drags a hand down his face wearily. Merlin watches him restlessly, that niggling feeling in the back of his head telling him that they were running out of time.

"Fine." Arthur finally relents, although he looks anything but happy about it. "Just promise me that you'll be careful, and that you won't do anything stupid."

Merlin gives him a wry smile, but doesn't say anything. He knows that he can't promise that. Arthur knows it, too. Instead, he just gently cups Arthur's face and presses their lips together softly. Arthur's eyes are clouded with _something_ as he pulls away. He studies the King's face intently before dropping his hands and taking a step back.

"There's something I have to do." He says quietly. "I'll find you once I'm done." He goes to take another step back, but Arthur's hand wrapping around his wrist tightly stops him from retreating further.

"What is it you have to do?" He asks, eyeing Merlin with something akin to suspicion. Merlin's smile saddens a bit.

"The best thing I can do, in case this all goes sideways." Merlin replies vaguely. He doesn't want to tell Arthur that he's going to go put protections in place, so in the event of this man being successful, everyone else will remain safe. Honestly, he doesn't even know how he would properly describe it all to Arthur, especially with the time constraints they are undoubtedly under.

Gently, he untangles Arthur's fingers from his arm, and turns to leave. He hears the King splutter something behind him, but he doesn't look back. He may be viewing his magic returning as a curse right now, but he'd be damned if he didn't use it for something good when he had the chance.

The rest of the castle is bustling with hurried activity as Merlin leaves the Council Chambers. The rushed movement sends a throb through Merlin's still aching head, but he grits his teeth and pushes through it. He takes a few staggered steps before he successfully gets his feet back under himself, and heads in the direction of the main doors leading out to the courtyard. He sifts through the fog in his mind, trying to think of the best place he can go to do what he had in mind. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he's hoping that he's _capable_ of doing what he has in mind. As if on cue, his head pulses with pain again.

Bright sunlight stings Merlin's eyes as he finally breaks out into the sunshine. There is just as much rushing about out here as there had been inside. He half squints his eyes closed, and practically stumbles down the stone steps. If Arthur had been with him, the man would undoubtedly have made some quip about how it was a true miracle that he had survived this long. At this particular moment, Merlin feels rather inclined to agree. Upon reaching the bottom, thankfully in one piece, he slips into the crowd of people speeding about and getting ready for an attack on their home.

Guilt flashes hot and heavy through Merlin's chest as he makes his way to what he hopes is a secluded part of the courtyard. This is all his fault. This wouldn't be happening if he had just stayed away for good. This wouldn't be happening if he had fought that curse harder. He should have done more. Tried harder. Not let it win. He shakes those thoughts aside as he bumps bodily into someone, nearly going over backward.

"Merlin!" A familiar voice says as a hand reaches out to steady him. Once the shock passes, and the blinding pain in his head recedes, Merlin looks up to see Gwaine studying him with open concern on his face.

"Gwaine, hey. Thanks," Merlin says with a short-lived chuckle.

The knight's eyes narrow ever so slightly as he looks Merlin over. Merlin has to fight the urge to fidget under the scrutiny. Finally, he asks, "Did you need help with anything?"

"No." Merlin replies quickly. Too quickly, and Gwaine's eyes narrow further. "No, I just have something I need to do." Merlin adds, hoping that his voice sounds more sincere and believable. He holds his breath as Gwaine looks him over, letting it out silently as Gwaine slowly nods.

"All right. Well, stay out of trouble." The knights says, finally letting his hands drop from Merlin's body.

Merlin snorts. "You're one to talk." He retorts easily, pulling a grin from his friend. He grins back, then gives him a final nod before continuing on his way. He feels a little unsteady on his feet as he goes, but manages to avoid any more collisions on the way. He breathes out a small sigh of relief as he finally stops in a far corner of the courtyard, far enough away from prying eyes to avoid being seen. For the most part.

Crouching down, he rests his palm flat on the cobblestones and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath, and imagines what it is that he wants to accomplish. A few spells cross his mind that may work, and he inhales deeply before opening his eyes, and voicing the words in a commanding tone. Nothing outwardly seems to happen, but he feels the power transfer from his hand to the ground below him. He repeats the process with another spell, and then another. Once he's run out of vocal spells to cast, he simply closes his eyes again, and focuses acutely on what he wants done. He can feel the air around him shift slightly, and he knows that it's done. He has done the best he can, and can only hope that it's enough, should it come down to it.

Rising back to his feet, he ventures back out into the busy courtyard, eyes following people, searching for a more familiar face, despite the protesting in his head. Finally, he spots Sir Geriant through the crowd, and heads his way. The knight spots him coming and grins.

"Hello, Merlin. How is your head?" He asks. Merlin shrugs, and winces.

"Probably a lot worse than I let Arthur believe." Merlin replies. His friend grins. "Is there anything I can do to help?" He adds, eyes flitting over the preparations under way. Geriant screws his face up in thought, then shakes his head.

"Not really, no, I'm afraid. Just stay out of trouble, or the King will have all our hides." He warns, patting Merlin gently on the shoulder. Merlin grimaces. Apparently the king's newfound overprotectiveness for Merlin was obvious to everyone, except himself. Merlin mentally rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you know me. I'm a trouble magnet." Merlin replies, almost sheepishly. Geriant barks out a laugh, no doubt remembering their adventures from their time roaming the forests in search of the spell Merlin had needed. Merlin had, in fact, attracted all kinds of trouble, only some of which had been his fault.

"That is true. You always did have knack for finding the worst situations to get stuck in." He smiles. "Do you remember the training I gave you?" The knight inquires, much more somberly.

Merlin nods. "Yes, and Arthur has been really pushing it since I returned to Camelot." He shrugs.

Sir Geriant smiles. "He's a good man." His eyes flick over to where Arthur has just appeared at the top of the stone steps. "He's a lucky man. Stay safe, Merlin. For his sake. He's been a changed man ever since you returned. I would hate to see either of you hurt."

Merlin opens his mouth to reply, but never gets the chance. From a distance, he hears someone shout, _"Incoming! They're here!"_

The King appears by his side as he turns to face the gate leading into the courtyard. For a moment, he has a flashback of a very different time with the same gate. The sky had been darker. The stones around him flickering black and orange with flames and shadows. He blinks back to the present as he feels Arthur's hand reach down and grab his wrist, moments before the cool hilt of a sword is pressed into his palm. His fingers reflexively close around it. The fingers around him don't leave yet.

"You remember how to use it?" Arthur asks, eyes serious. Merlin nods, eyes catching Sir Geriant's over the King's shoulder. He gets a solemn nod before the knight turns and leaves, heading for his instructed position to defend the city and its people.

The warlock's eyes flick back to meet the King's, and he nods. "Yes." He replies. "I do. Do not worry about me."

Arthur's face creases with a frown. "I'll always worry about you, Merlin. It is an unfortunate side effect of everything else."

Merlin cracks a grin at the half-hearted quip, easily reading on the King's face that he's just jesting. Reaching out, he settles his hand over the one Arthur still has on his arm. He doesn't break eye contact as he squeezes his fingers firmly. Arthur squeezes his wrist in turn, nodding ever so slightly.

"Whatever happens today, I want you to know that I love you, and that none of this is your fault. You are a great king, Arthur, and some things are just unavoidable." He says quietly. He doesn't so much care about someone overhearing, and thus finding out about the true nature of their relationship. He more just wants the moment to be as private as it can possibly be in the middle of the crowded courtyard, while talking to the king.

Arthur's mouth purses into a thin line. "That better not be a goodbye, _Mer_ lin, or I'll never forgive you." One again, Merlin smiles at the line. He knows that the King doesn't mean it.

"Take it as you wish, Sire." Merlin says. "But we best be going. We have a battle to win."

The next moment, Merlin gasps in surprise as Arthur's slightly dry and chapped lips press ever so delicately to his. When he pulls back, Arthur meets his eyes, a sadness lurking there just under the surface. A single moment seems to stretch on forever as the King merely gazes into Merlin's eyes unblinkingly.

Then, "I love you too, Merlin. Stay close, with that head injury. Gaius will kill me if I let anything untoward happen to you." Merlin almost doesn't notice the stab of pain knifing through his head as he grins knowingly back. As one, they turn their backs fully on the castle and start to make their way toward the courtyard gates. _This is it._

Merlin does as asked and stays by Arthur's side as they hurry through the streets towards the unmistakable sounds of battle nearer the edges of the Lower Town. Merlin frowns in confusion as they go. He had only been told about one man. Who were these other people attacking the city? His thoughts are cut off as he hears a scream off to his right. Ignoring his head (and the admonishing words that Gaius will undoubtedly have for him later), he whips his head around, eyes scanning for the sound. He finds it in the form of a woman trying desperately to get into the meager shelter of her home as a man prowls toward her.

Merlin reacts instinctively, knowing that his eyes are openly glowing gold as the door to the woman's house pops open, and the man's feet seem to slow, as if he were trudging through thick, deep mud. He doesn't even realize that he has stopped, and Arthur has unknowingly left him behind, until the man looks around and spots him. Merlin takes a step back, expecting to bump into his king, but meets no resistance at all. He's alone.

"You!" The man shouts, forgetting about the woman for now. She has long since escaped into her home. Merlin's eyes glow again, and the man's feet seem to stick even more, to the point that he seems unable to move. His yells of rage follow Merlin as he turns and runs through the street. Apparently these men had no issues attacking the defenseless. They had no honour. The women, children, and men incapable of fighting were still in danger. The safety of their homes was false, and they may die because of it. Merlin couldn't let that happen.

Another panicked shout draws his attention, and he jumps off the street toward it, adrenaline coursing through his body and leaving the previous agony in his head forgotten. He skids to a stop as he finds the source of the shout: an unarmed man desperately trying to fend off what appears to be a bandit or a mercenary, a woman holding a baby cowering behind him.

Merlin surges forward, hand outstretched before he is even entirely sure what he is about to do. The attacker suddenly lifts into the air, and spins around several times, twisting this way and that until he's dangling upside down and blinking disorientedly. The small family is staring at him in equal parts fear and gratitude.

"Go! Run, now!" Merlin shouts as the man in the air thrashes madly in a vain attempt to escape Merlin's magic. The man on the ground shoots him a sincere smile before they hurry off down the street and disappear from view. Merlin blinks, and the man in the air lands in a heap, struggling to get up but finding that he can't. He is stuck, just like the previous bandit Merlin had dealt with. Alive, but detained.

Turning back the way he had come, Merlin sprints forward. He feels his magic bubbling just under the surface, so he lets it out, lets the tendrils of it move through the street around him, allowing him to _feel_ what was going on. He feels a jolt, and he nearly goes down on his knees, barely managing to catch himself on the side of a house. Fearful eyes peer out at him through a window, but upon seeing him, there's a flicker of hope there, burning bright. He doesn't have time to linger, just nods slightly and pushes off, heading in the direction his magic is pulling him.

He draws nearer to the main source of the battle as he goes, and he spots hoards of bandits and mercenaries battling knights clad in silvery armour. His eyes easily catch Arthur's golden blond hair, right in the thick of things. He pushes on as he catches sight of some of the invaders slipping past the knights fighting below. His magic jolts again, and he hurries onward, not daring to even think about what will happen if he doesn't make it in time.

He rounds a corner, and immediately spots the source of the disturbance. A large, burly man is pinning a teenager to a wall by the boy's throat. He's frantically thrashing and kicking as he tries to break free, but the man is too big, and too strong for the young man to dislodge.

Just as before, Merlin's magic reacts instinctively, coursing out along the cobblestones to wrap around the man's legs. He feels a tug, and then the bandit's legs are being pulled out behind him. He flails his arms, letting go of the boy, who crumples to the ground at the base of the wall. The bandit goes down hard, his hands just barely catching himself in time. He manages to stop himself from cracking his skull, but his nose still hits, no doubt breaking, and spraying blood in a circle outward from his face.

Merlin darts forward, extending a hand to the boy choking and trying to catch his breath. He looks up as Merlin approaches, and relief floods his features. "Come on, I'll find you somewhere safe!"

The boy obediently takes his hand, allowing himself to be pulled further down the street. A door up ahead opens, and a man leans out, beckoning them closer. Merlin spots him, and makes a beeline straight there, the boy trying to stay with him. Merlin skids to a halt, tugging the boy forward.

"Thank you. Please keep him safe!" He pants, already turning to run back. He passes the bandit on the way, cursing and screaming in rage, but unable to move as well. Merlin sidesteps him easily, and continues on back to the battle. The sounds of yelling and swords clashing grows louder as he draws nearer. As he rounds the corner, he is again faced with the sight of more bandits together in one place than he has even seen before. Where did they all come from?

Movement across the main street, in the side street opposite him, draws his attention. Looking over, he sees the same man and woman from the garden approaching the knights from behind, accompanied by two other men that Merlin doesn't recognize. As he studies them closer, the spots makeshift weapons clutched tightly in their hands, their eyes trained on the knights in front of them. They weren't here to help. Not Arthur and his army, anyway.

"Hey!" Merlin yells, but they either ignore him, or the sounds of the battle are too loud and drown his voice out. Either way, they continue on, picking their way carefully to try to avoid detection. He rushes out onto the street, but only gets a few steps before someone charges into him, sending him crashing to the ground. He manages to grab a handful of fabric as he goes, pulling his assailant down with him. They land in a heap, sending Merlin's breath rushing from his lungs.

Shoving the man off him roughly, he rolls onto his hands and knees, gasping for breath. When he look back up, he sees the four getting closer, and apparently heading for the king himself. Merlin struggles to his feet, opening his mouth to yell Arthur's name, but all that comes out is a croak. Still gagging against his own uncooperative body, Merlin sends a flare of magic out, making the ground shake beneath their feet. The four attackers stops their advance in order to stay upright, but it also has the added benefit of making Arthur turn around, eyes searching for Merlin.

"Arthur!" He wheezes, pointing at the four traitors, but he doesn't get much further than that. The man who had tackled him has regained his footing, and brings the hilt of his sword down hard between Merlin's shoulder blades. Merlin yelps, and drops to his knees.

"Merlin!" He hears the King distinctly yell. Merlin glances up just in time to see Arthur take a few steps toward him, only to get jumped by the four seemingly innocent citizens of Camelot.

"No!" Merlin yells, staggering to his feet. Before he can take a step, a strong hand clasps down on his shoulder. His magic riles up at the unwanted touch, and the hand disappears as the man recoils, clutching his hand as if he had been burned. Merlin rushes forward, but spots another man slipping into view. He looks innocuous enough, but Merlin's magic screams at him that he is dangerous. The warlock pushes forward, but falters as a large man comes into view beside the ratty looking man. This one is much more threatening looking, with a thick, black beard an hair. 

"Enough!" This man roars, and everyone stops to look at him, startled. The large man stops moving, as the smaller one continues as to stop before Arthur on the ground, held steady by the four traitors. The King glares up at him.

"King Arthur." The man says in an oily voice. "What a pleasure to meet you."

Arthur glowers. "Who are you, and why are you doing this?" he growls. The man doesn't flinch.

"My name is Nathaniel." The man replies. "And I thought that my reason for this would be quite obvious." The man's eyes scan the crowd, stopping on Merlin as he pulls his lips back in a slimy grin. "I'm here to make the sorcerer pay, to save all of Camelot from his stain."

Merlin takes another few steps closer, but stops as Arthur snarls, "If you want Merlin, you'll have to go through me."

Panic starts to grip Merlin's chest as Nathaniel laughs. "Yes, I thought you would say that. It's a very good thing that I don't mind ridding the world of both magic users, and magic sympathizers."

A knight moves to rush Nathaniel, but gets slammed bodily to the ground by the large man behind him. "My men will have no mercy on _anyone_ if any of you interfere!" He bellows. Nervous looks get shared as Arthur clenches his jaw.

"Now." Nathaniel says, adjusting his grip on his sword. "The sorcerer." When Arthur just spits at him, he raises the blade to the King's throat. "Fine." He says emotionlessly.

"No, wait!" Merlin yells, staggering a few steps closer. "You can have me. I'll go willingly, without a fight, just spare Camelot, spare its people." His unspoken _'spare him'_ rings unsaid though the air. "Please, these people don't deserve this. You are here for my blood, not theirs. Take me. Do whatever you want to me. Just don't hurt anyone else."

"Merlin, shut up!" Arthur hisses as Nathaniel contemplates him curiously.

"You love him." He states simply. Merlin doesn't know what to say, and the man seems to take that as confirmation. "You know, when you attacked Camelot, a lot of people were hurt. Some lost their loved one." He muses. Merlin's heart thunders in his chest. The man turns a cruel grin in his direction, and suddenly, Merlin understands. _No, no, no!_

"I think," Nathaniel says, faux thoughtfully, "that you should share their pain. I'm not going to kill you, not yet. Not until you are forced to watch the life leave your love's eyes." he turns back to face Arthur, and Merlin panics.

The sword pulls back, ready to plunge unto Arthur's throat, and all Merlin can think to do is yell, "No!" His magic flares, but in his panicked state, all he can do is slow time. He charges forward, but he can see that he won't make it in time to grab Arthur and get them both out of the way. He grits his teeth and pushes his body to get one last burst of speed. Just as the blade is getting within inches of piercing Arthur's skin, Merlin reaches them, shoving the King aside as he forces himself between his love, and the threat wanting to take him away. Time whiplashes back to full speed as the sword plunges into Merlin's stomach. His eyes widen involuntarily as loud noises rush back around him.

Nathaniel stares in shock for a moment before sneering, "I still win. I still got what I came for." Merlin grunts as he twists the blade.

Merlin looks up, meeting the man's dark, beady eyes, and smiles. "Camelot is protected." He says. "Enchantments in the very ground under your feet, designed to come alive with my death." He stops to cough, feeling blood dribble from his mouth. "There is nothing more you can do. Even in death, I will protect Camelot until it's nothing more than dust and memories. You will never win." He chokes, suddenly gasping for breath.

Strong, familiar hands latch onto him as Nathaniel pulls his sword free, and he starts to fall. "Merlin!" He hears beside him, but the voice starts to grow faint. He lifts steadily blurring eyes to Arthur's pale face. He feels a very weak smile tug at his lips, and he lifts a heavy arm to gently brush his cheek with his almost numb fingertips.

"You're safe." He wheezes. "You'll always be safe."

"No, Merlin, don't talk. Just hold on!" Arthur commands, but his voice sounds panicked.

Merlin blinks slowly. "I lo-" He stops to breath. "I love you, Arthur." His own voice sounds weak and almost unrecognizable. He's vaguely aware of movement and renewed shouts around him, but all be can focus on is Arthur's face, his voice saying that he loves him too. His eyelids droop shut, suddenly feeling like lead. There's a pained gasp in his ear. His whole body throbs once before it suddenly doesn't hurt anymore. As the warlock exhales his last ragged breath, the earth around them explodes into activity. Just like Merlin said it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I am very predictable when it comes to this series, apparently. I did promise a happier story than the first one, and I do promise that this one will be. Never fear!!


	9. Chapter 9

The world seems to slow to a crawl around Arthur as he stares unblinkingly down at Merlin. HIs limp body feels heavy in Arthur's arms, and the weight of everything is crashing down on the King's chest, and he feels like he can't breathe. When he finally manages to tear his eyes away from the man in his arms, he is met with utter chaos around him. He blinks a few times, trying to settle his vision, but the sight doesn't change.

All around him, the knights have renewed their battle with the bandit hoard. However, they are not the only ones doing the fighting. Arthur watches as roots push up past the cobblestones, winding themselves tightly around the legs of their enemies. Some men get pulled down, arms flailing out to catch themselves before their heads connect painfully with the ground. Others get rooted to the spot, unable to move as the knights easily disarm them and move on. They struggle futilely against their bonds.

Where the roots fail to catch their victims, holes in the ground open up. Cracks run through the ground, skirting around the knights, to suddenly pull open and send fleeing bandits tumbling into earthy smelling pits. Others sink to their knees before the ground closes around them. Not enough to kill them, just enough to seal them in place. Again, the men all scream and yell. Some in rage. Others in fear.

From above, the sound of hundreds of wings, of all sizes, reaches Arthur's ears. He pulls his head back to look, and see flocks of birds flying in, closely followed my swarms of insects. They swoop in, cutting between the bandits and the knights still fighting, twisting in mid-air to surround the attackers, cutting them off from doing any more damage. The men swipe their swords out, trying to cut down the creatures, but somehow their blades do no damage. They, as well, are prisoners.

Arthur's attention then shifts to Nathaniel. The man is looking around them too, eyes fearful. Arthur stares, a red hot rage starting to form and simmer in his chest. _How dare he hurt Merlin. How dare he take Merlin away._ He keeps his eyes laser focused on the man as he gently sets Merlin's body on the ground. His fingers brush idly through his black hair as he rises to his feet. The four holding him had backed off in fear as everything around them exploded in a frenzy of movement. They were no doubt trying to escape. Arthur had no doubt in his mind that Merlin's magic wouldn't let them get far.

"You." He snarls, fingers tightening around his sword. Nathaniel jumps at his voice, and spins to face him. "What gave you the right to lay a hand on Merlin?" His voice is low and dangerous, and Nathaniel's eyes flash with more fear. Arthur can only imagine how terrifying he must look right now. He can't recall a time that he has ever felt this angry.

"I-I had to save-" Nathaniel starts to stammer out, but Arthur cuts him off.

"Enough. I will not hear your excuses. Merlin was not a threat. He was helping the people of Camelot, not plotting to destroy them. Unlike you." He growls, lifting his sword and readying himself for a fight. As pathetic and cowardly as this man may be, he would put up a fight. No one _wants_ to die.

Arthur sees Nathaniel tense his muscles right before he swings his own sword out, and he blocks easily. Nathaniel grits his teeth and steps back, bringing up his second hand to grip the hilt of his sword as well. His fingers flex, catching the King's eye, and he swings again. Arthur meets him halfway, and the sound of metal meeting metal rings out through the air around them. He pushes his advantage as the more seasoned fighter, driving Nathaniel back. By now, the large man who had accompanied him was otherwise occupied fighting off thick tree roots that were trying to curl around him. Nathaniel was completely at the King's mercy. Arthur liked those odds.

The battle is not particularly difficult, but the man's desperation has him holding on for as long as he can. Soon enough, Arthur tires of the man's efforts. Almost as if it had read his mind, a large root appears through the ground behind Nathaniel's feet, and he trips, going down hard. The impact jars up his spine, causing him to wince. Arthur towers over him, leaning down just enough to grab the collar of the man's tunic, and hauls him into an upright sitting position.

"Please, I was only trying to help!" The man babbles unnecessarily.

Arthur sneers at him. "The only one you were trying to help was yourself. Unfortunately for you, your efforts are fruitless."

Fear flashes through Nathaniel's eyes again as he stares up into Arthur's hardened face. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting this exact scenario to play out. What exactly he _had_ been expecting was out of Arthur's realm to grasp. Arthur's eyes flick over the man, debating what to do. He feels something settle on his shoulder, and he looks over in confusion. A jet black raven is looking back. It cocks its head to the side as it studies the King's face intently. Cawing once, it takes off again, to join the others still swarming through the city, somehow helping to round up as many bandits as possible. Decision made, Arthur turns his attention back to Nathaniel.

"You have attacked this city, and its people. You have threatened the life of your king. For that, I convict you of treason, for which the penalty is death." To his surprise, his voice comes out even and strong, despite the whirlwind of emotions raging in his chest. He gains a small amount of pleasure from the intense fear morphing itself onto Nathaniel's face. Before the man has a chance to reply, Arthur raises his sword and thrusts it into the man's chest, piercing his heart. Leaning down, he whispers fiercely, "That's for Merlin, you son of a bitch."

Nathaniel gurgles an unintelligible reply as Arthur pulls his sword free and steps back. He watches solemnly as the man falls to the ground. He doesn't get back up. Arthur turns his back, gaze once again finding Merlin's lifeless body. Something twists painfully in his chest, and he tears his gaze away. All around him, the knights are detaining the bandits, and... _dealing with_ the ones who fight back. There's nothing more to be done. Thanks to Merlin's help, they're won. Still, there's a bitter taste in his mouth, and he feels like he's going to be physically ill.

"Sire?" Arthur turns his head to see Sir Leon approaching. His eyes flick down to Merlin briefly, and the King can clearly see the grief and pain in the man's eyes.

"Yes, Leon?" He asks. He's almost surprised at how defeated he sounds.

"What will you have us do with the men we've rounded up?" The knight asks. Arthur glances around, sighing wearily.

Rubbing a hand down his face tiredly, he replies, "Put them in the dungeons. I will deal with them later. For now, I have other business to attend to." He swallows thickly as his thoughts shift to Merlin. He couldn't be _gone_. Arthur needed him.

"Yes, Sire." Sir Leon replies sadly, bowing slightly before leaving to do as instructed. Arthur stays frozen for a moment, heart throbbing painfully in his chest with every ragged beat. Finally, he blinks himself out of his unseeing stupor and moves to crouch next to Merlin's body.

"Merlin." He breathes, voice catching. He smooths a hand back over the man's hair, then shifts to lift him into his arms. Merlin's head lolls lifelessly against his shoulder as he cradles his body close to his chest. He had to get him to Gaius. Gaius was the only one who may know what to do.

The trip back up to the castle seems to pass in a blur, and before he even realizes how far he has gotten, he's pushing open the physician's door, and maneuvering himself and Merlin inside. Gaius looks up from where he's preparing bandages and tinctures for those who may have been wounded in the battle, and pales visible. Arthur opens his mouth to say something, but finds that all his words die in his throat. It's almost like he's suddenly forgotten how to speak.

"Bring him over here, Sire." The physician beckons, hurriedly clearing room on the cot. Arthur numbly does as he's told, and gently lays Merlin down. His chest constricts around his aching heart as he once again see Merlin's pale face. A flare of panic takes root in his chest as he realizes that the man is getting steadily paler.

"Gaius?" he hears himself say, voice weak and cracked.

The physician looks up, features an interesting mixture of soft and professional. "Can you tell me that happened, Sire?"

Arthur swallows. "He saved my life. He willingly sacrificed himself for all of Camelot. God, he... he was an _idiot!_ I _told_ him to let us handle it! I _told_ him to stay safe, and what does he do? He runs around the city, openly using magic, and playing the damn hero! He went and got himself _killed!_ " He's yelling by the time he's done, too grief-stricken to remember that it wasn't Gaius' fault, and he shouldn't be yelling at him. The man who was at fault had already paid his price.

"Please, Gaius." The King says after taking a steadying breath. "If there is _anything_ you can do."

Gaius lifts his eyebrows at the heavy implication. "I will see what I can do, Sire."

With a nod, Arthur steps back, trusting Gaius to do all that he can. His eyes stray back to Merlin's emotionless and void face. He bites his lower lip, feeling that flare of panic start to grow, licking dangerously at his ribcage. He tries to swallow it back, but it's hard. Strange words pouring out of the old man's mouth causes the King to look back up at the physician, just in time to see his eyes flare gold. He passes a hand over Merlin's chest, frowning. Arthur holds his breath.

As the gold fades from his eyes, he turns to the King and says, "For all intents and purposes, he is dead, Sire."

Arthur feels as if a hole has opened up beneath his feet, and he's suddenly plummeting endlessly through nothing but thin air. "No." He says stubbornly, shaking his head. "No, there has to be something you can do."

Gaius looks mournful as he looks back. "It is impossible to raise the dead without severe consequences, Arthur. However, I did sense something. Almost like a piece of him was left behind. He may be dead by all medical standards, but if anyone can reverse that, it's Merlin."

A frown settles over Arthur's features. "What do you mean?" He asks, trying to stamp down the hope desperately trying to spring up in his chest.

"Merlin is said to be the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth. More powerful than even the High Priestess' of the Old Religion. At full power, the only thing that could kill him would be a blade forged in the dragon's breath." Gaius replies.

"So, what does that mean now?" Arthur asks,

"It is hard for me to say, as I have no idea as to how much of Merlin's magic as returned to him. Perhaps enough to save his life." Gaius says calmly, but Arthur can see the fear and hope warring in the older man's eyes.

Arthur nods, taking that in. "Is there anything more that we can do for him?" He asks, eyes sliding back to Merlin's face. He swallows thickly.

"I'm afraid all we can do is keep his body as comfortable as possible, and hope that he returns to us." Gaius says. "We must wait for him. In the meantime, I suggest you continue your duties as King. I promise to send word as soon as anything here changes."

Arthur opens his mouth to protest, but snaps it shut at Gaius' piercing stare. "Yes. I do have quite a new influx of prisoners to deal with." He turns to go, but pauses to look back. "Please, Gaius." He isn't even sure what he's asking for, but the physician nods all the same. 

"I know how much he means to you, Sire. All we can do now is hope and pray." The physician says solemnly.

~~~

The first thing that Merlin becomes aware of as he slowly wakes, is the smell of pine. He smiles, inhaling deeply. He has always loved that smell. He lays there, just breathing and letting the soothing scent envelope him, fill up every one of his senses until he feels like bursting. He flinches as a brief flash of a memory flits across his mind. Yelling. An oily voice talking. A croaked promise to always protect. Pain. An intense pain, very eerily reminiscent of a previous injury. His eyes fly open.

Sitting up, he reaches for his stomach, remembering the feel of a sword piercing his skin. There isn't so much as a hole in his tunic. _That's odd._ Finally, he glances around, and confusion fogs his brain. The last thing he could recall was being in the city, seeing Nathaniel threatening Arthur. He could clearly picture Arthur's distraught face as he held Merlin in his arms.

Everything still a little blurry, Merlin looks around at his surroundings. He is in the forest, which would explain the intense scent of pine that he would not get in the city. He was hit with a vague sense of familiarity about the scenery around him, like he had been here before. Shakily, he gets to his feet, eyes still scanning the area, and trying to remember why he felt such a strong emotion to this place.

Suddenly, it all becomes clear as he gets a vision of Arthur lying in the dirt and leaves, armour on, and a wound from an arrow in his back. The Crystal Cave. How on earth had he gotten here? Now that he remembered where he was, he could vividly recall his last visit here. The panic and fear that Arthur was dying, and he couldn't save him, still seemed so fresh and raw in Merlin's mind. His eyes settle on where Arthur had been, seeming so lifeless. All that power coursing through his body, and Merlin had still almost lost him. He shivers at the memory.

Deciding that he needs to get back to Camelot, he starts off in the direction that he knows the city is in. To his surprise, the details around him start to darken and blur the farther from the Cave he gets, almost like the world around him isn't actually real. Frowning, he pushes onward, only to get swallowed by darkness. It only lasts for a moment before the light and scenery return, showing him that he has walked right back into the same area.

He stops for a moment, a little shocked, as he looks around. So, he can't leave. Apprehensively, he turns to look at the entrance to the Cave. He swallows. There was nothing he could do. He had to go in. His feet feel heavy as he starts to move, drawing closer and closer. With one last deep breath, he slowly makes his way inside.

The light from outside gets snuffed pretty quickly as he makes progress into the Cave itself. A glowing light up ahead is all that guides his way, and much too soon for his liking, he's stepping out into the larger cavern. He averts his gaze, not wanting to look at any crystal for too long, scared of what he may find there. He doesn't know what he would do if they showed him the destruction of Camelot. The death of Arthur. It would be even worse if it was all by his own hand.

He moves to step farther in, wondering why he had ended up here, of all places, when a voice calls his name. It was a familiar voice, one that he had only known for a short amount of time. Not nearly enough time.

"Merlin." It says again, and he finally turns to face it.

"Father." He breathes. Standing there before him was, indeed, Balinor. Merlin frowns, confused. "How are you here?"

"You should really be asking yourself that question. It is you who brought me here." Balinor replies, only creating more questions in Merlin's mind.

Looking around the Cave surrounding them, he asks, "How is it that I brought you here, when I don't even know how I got here in the first place?" Balinor merely tilts his head, silently imploring Merlin to dig deeper. Merlin concentrates harder, forcing himself to look at the facts more closely. How did he come to be here? There is no way he could've walked. Maybe...

"Did my magic bring me here to heal? I know I was injured. Did I somehow instinctively get myself out of harms way?" He asks. A worrying thought invades his head, and he adds, "If I'm here, is Arthur okay?"

Balinor nods. "The young king is fine. As is the city. You did your job well."

Merlin relaxes minutely. "So am I right? Did my magic bring me here?"

He gets an intense look from his father as the man replies, "In a way, yes. But, perhaps not in the way you are thinking, or hoping."

Confusion fills Merlin's mind. "What do you mean?"

Balinor watches him for a moment before gesturing around them to encompass the entire Cave. "This, all of this, is merely in your head, Merlin. Surely you can figure out why."

Once again, Merlin bites his lip and tries to concentrate. How could he be here in his head, but not actually here physically? He focuses on those last few moments back in Camelot. He recalls the man, the sword, the pain, the look on Arthur's face. Suddenly, it all clicks, and he jolts his head up to look at his father.

"Am I... _dead?_ " He asks croakily. Some unnamed emotion washes over him as he watches his father slowly nod.

"Yes. For now, that does appear to be the case." Balinor says solemnly. Merlin's eyes widen, and his gaze falls to his feet. _Dead?_ He couldn't be _dead!_ What about Arthur? His friends? Just as he's about to spiral out on control, his father reaches out a hand and says, "Come. There is much to discuss."

Not having any idea what his father means by that, Merlin obediently follows him deeper into the Cave. The crystals call out to him as he passes, trying to draw his attention, but he looks away, refusing to know anything about the future again. He didn't want that kind of weight on his shoulders again. They go farther into the Cave than he had ever been. Maybe because none of this was actually real, they went farther than they could in the real world.

At last, they come to a stop. The cavern is smaller than the previous one, and only has one solitary crystal right in the middle. Still, the whole place is somehow lit up with an unearthly glow. Merlin's breath catches in his throat as his father leads him to the crystal. For some reason, this one doesn't beckon him closer. It doesn't try to entice him with knowledge, or try to show him anything. it merely pulses with light, like a heartbeat.

"Sit." Balinor says softly, as he sinks down to the stone ground beneath them. Merlin does the same. A silence falls over them as Merlin looks about for the source of the light. He can't find anything, other than the crystal, that could possibly be giving off light. When the silence stretches on, however, he grows confused.

"I thought you said we had a lot to talk about?" He asks.

Balinor nods slightly, gesturing to him. "There is much on your mind, my son. Let it out."

Merlin is admittedly a little taken aback by that reply. What exactly was his father looking for? What did he want Merlin to say? If he was the one who had wanted to talk, surely there were specific things he wanted to know. Why was it up to Merlin to guess? As he continues to ponder what Balinor could possibly mean, a new thought pops into his head. His father had said that Merlin himself had brought him here. If his mind had created the Crystal Cave, it was entirely possible that his mind had created Balinor as well. This image of his father was just that. A reflection of his own mind.

"Do you believe me to be a monster?" He asks softly.

Balinor considers him for a moment before speaking. "There is true evil in the world. I do not see that evil in your heart. I only see purity, loyalty, and a fierce love."

Merlin swallows. "What about everyone else? Will they ever be able to look back and see the same? Or will they always be afraid of me?" He can't quite meet his father's eyes as he voices the question.

"Merlin, from what I can see in here," he places a hand over his chest, "and in here," he shifts it to his head, "those around you have already moved on from that terrible incident. The only one who has been, so far, unable to, is you."

Merlin huffs out a sad, unamused laugh. After being victim to something so purely evil, he didn't know if he would ever be able to fully move on. In a way, losing his magic had helped. It had dulled the fears that it would happen again. If he was ordinary, if he was just like everyone else, he wouldn't pose as much of a threat. He would be easier to stop. He wouldn't be able to hurt to many people.

"Will I ever be able to make up for what I have done?" He hears himself ask.

Balinor gestures to the crystal between them. "I think you'll find that you already have."

Against his better judgement, Merlin looks down. He sucks in a breath as he sees Arthur's face, devoid of all emotion. He leans closer, despite his previous resolve to not look. The image seems to shimmer and blur at haphazard intervals, almost like it was more someone's thought, than a possible set in stone future.

_"Merlin gave up his life to protect Camelot. To protect me, and all of you."_ The Arthur in the crystal was saying. _"I know that most of you remember the events from before, and I know that you were afraid. However, now you have all witnessed how his magic, indeed, saved countless lives. He protected us all, some of you individually, without causing any death. He proved his loyalty, and his good heart, and I am hoping you all agree with me."_

Merlin sucks in a breath as the image in the crystal shifts to reveal a crowd of citizens packed into the courtyard, all nodding. They all seemed to agree with their king. His heart races beneath his ribcage as he takes in the implications of that he was hearing and seeing. Perhaps Arthur had been telling the truth this whole time.

_"If Merlin were here, I am sure that you would have nothing but praise for his bravery and his selflessness. As he is not, I would like to honour his memory. As of now, talks of repealing the ban on magic will begin. I wish to hear your views and concerns on the matter, as this will affect you all. However, I firmly believe this could be a good thing, and could bring true peace and prosperity to the kingdom."_

Merlin falls back, his eyes leaving the crystal as the crowd cheers loudly. His mind is whirling too fast for him to properly make sense of anything. Looking up, he meets his father's eyes. Something the man had said earlier comes back to him.

"Earlier, when I asked if I was dead, you said _'For now'._ Does that mean that I can go back?" He asks.

Balinor's face creases into a small smile. "That is up to you, my son. Do you wish to go back?"

Merlin bites his lip and glances at the crystal. Arthur's face once again appears. "If I go back, will these events still potentially unfold?"

His father hums thoughtfully. "Possibly. That is for you to find out, should that be your decision."

Arthur's face almost seems to shimmer and glow in the crystal, and Merlin's heart aches. A battle between selfish want and selfless sacrifice wars out in his chest. If he returned, he could be will Arthur again, but magic may forever be banned. If he did not, Arthur would be alone, but all sorcerers and sorceresses could be free. It feels like an unfairly tough decision. He could always hope that magic could be freed should he return. He looks up, meeting his father's eyes, and nodding. He had made his decision. For better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a few liberties with how the people would react to all this magic stuff going on around them. I want to end this series on a happier note than the first work did. Plus, it's my AU and I can do whatever I want. Hopefully you all agree with my decisions to leave everyone happy!!


	10. Chapter 10

If parchment could talk, Arthur was sure that the seemingly never-ending pile of paperwork on his desk would certainly be laughing at him. The nearly over-flowing dungeons were demanding his attention, as were the few repairs in the city that needed to be dealt with. Surprisingly, there wasn't much damage done. Arthur had to assume that he had Merlin's magic to thank for that. Somehow. Thoughts of Merlin make Arthur sigh, setting down his quill to scrub wearily at his face. It had only been a day, but it had perhaps been one of the longest days of Arthur's life. He had hoped to receive news from Gaius by now, but he had heard nothing.

Abandoning his task, Arthur gets to his feet to look out his window. It was late, by all standards, but still there were people moving about in the courtyard in the fading light. Clean up of the city was already underway, the task having been delegated to the ever-efficient Sir Leon. Arthur honestly didn't know what he would do without the man. He catches sight of Sir Percival and Sir Geriant amongst the crowd, and turns away, thoughts of Merlin rushing to the surface yet again.

Reluctantly, Arthur returns to his desk and takes a seat. He reaches for his quill, but drops his hand halfway through the motion. He didn't have the mental energy for this. He needed to see Merlin. Yes, Gaius had told him to wait patiently, but patience was not one of his virtues. Not when it came to Merlin, and certainly not now. Besides, he was the king. He could do whatever he wanted.

A knock on the door interrupts his contemplation, Gaius' hypothetical raised eyebrow vanishing from his mind as he calls for whoever it is to enter. He expects to see David step in, or perhaps even Guinevere, She had been visiting regularly over the past day to see how he was doing. He does not, however, expect George to step into his chambers. Shortly after his coronation, Arthur had promoted George to the position of _Head of Staff in the Royal Household_. He rarely had personal visits to his chambers ever since.

"George." He says, voice betraying his mild surprise. "What can I do for you?"

George bows respectfully, waiting to answer until he has straightened up. "The Court Physician has requested your presence, Sire."

The King is on his feet before he even realizes that he's moving. "Is it Merlin?" He asks. "Is everything okay?"

The man's face remains impassive as he replies, "I do not know, Sire. I was merely passing by when the Court Physician stopped me. He told me to fetch you immediately, then stepped back into his quarters."

Arthur nods. "Thank you, George. You may go." He says, already passing the man. George's eyes flick over the loose trousers, and low cut neckline of his sleeping wear, but says nothing. He merely bows again, and waits for the King to exit the room before leaving himself. The man is pretty much already forgotten by the time Arthur is out in the hall, and hurrying barefoot through the castle to Gaius' quarters.

"Gaius?" He calls as he bangs the door open. He would probably cringe at how borderline desperate he sounds, had the circumstances been different. As it was, he didn't really care.

"Sire." The older man's voice replies, the man himself coming into view as he steps out from Merlin's small back room. His voice has taken on a soothing quality that Arthur picks up on, but ignores anyway.

"Is Merlin okay? What has happened?" He rushes out, hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides restlessly.

Gaius approaches slowly, gesturing to the small table set up in the room. Arthur glances at Merlin's closed door, then reluctantly follows the older man. He dutifully sits across from him, and bites his lower lip. What will he do if it isn't good news? What if Merlin simply wasn't strong enough to hold on, to come back? His leg starts bouncing nervously.

"Sire," Gaius finally says, "I am going to start by telling you that Merlin is fine. He woke up about an hour ago. Before you ask why I didn't send for you sooner, I wanted to check him out to make sure that he was himself, and that he was okay."

Arthur frowns. "What do you mean, _'himself'_?" He asks.

The physician inhales deeply and lets it out as he ponders how to answer the question as simply as possible. "Certain kinds of very powerful magic can be tricky to work with. The power of life and death is one such magic. There are any number of things that can go wrong throughout the process. I merely took precautions to make sure that who woke up in Merlin's body was in fact Merlin."

"As opposed to what?" Arthur asks, not entirely sure that he wants the answer.

Gaius spreads his hands slightly. "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. This kind of thing has been so rarely known to happen, that not even I knew what to fully expect if Merlin decided to come back to us."

The King ponders that for a moment before verifying, "And Merlin is, well, Merlin?"

The older man nods, a small smile taking over his face. Sheer relief. "Yes, Sire. Merlin is one hundred percent himself."

A long breath exhales from Arthur's lungs that he hadn't even known he had been holding. "So how is he?" He asks once he feels that he can breathe properly again.

"He is very weak. To come back from essentially death itself took a tremendous amount of power. Not being at full strength to begin with meant that he had to use even more energy than he normally would have. Because of this, he has so far been unable to heal himself with his magic. I have done all that I can to speed up the process, both scientifically and magically, but for whatever reason, his wound is proving stubborn."

Arthur laughs, despite himself. "Stubborn. Just like the man himself."

There's a slight twinkle in Gaius' eyes as he nods. "Yes, Sire. I do believe that, given time, Merlin will make a full recovery. For now, what he needs is plenty of rest."

The King grimaces. "Forcing Merlin to rest has never been easy in the past. I seriously doubt he will make it any easier this time around."

The other man lets out a good-natured chuckle. "No, I highly doubt he will. He will certainly only listen so much to me. Lord knows I've been trying to keep that boy out of trouble for years. It is a miracle that he still has his head on his shoulders."

For the first time since this all began, Arthur feels himself relax as a genuine smile tugs at his lips. "I will try my best, as king, to keep him as idle as possible. Although, he has never had much respect for my title in the past. I fail to see why he should now."

This statement is met with another chuckle from the physician. "No, I suppose not. He always has seemed to have issues with the intricacies of status."

Another smile, and then Arthur asks, "Can I see him?"

Gaius' eyes soften as he nods. "Yes. He's expecting you."

Arthur inclines his head slightly, and gets to his feet. His heart rate picks up as he moves across the room, battering against his chest. He can practically hear it thudding as he gets closer to the door. Really, he has no idea what to expect. He knows that Merlin is okay. He knows that he will physically makes a full recovery. That doesn't mean that the man waiting for him on the other side of this door is still going to be the same person. Death has a way of changing a person.

"Merlin?" He asks softly as he pushes the door open. Bleary, blue eyes blink up at him as he enters.

"Arthur." He croaks, and he still somehow manages to sound so completely fond. "You're okay."

Arthur huffs a laugh. "Yes, I'm fine. All thanks to you, you absolutely amazing, beautiful idiot."

Merlin tries to laugh, but it comes out as more of a hoarse grumble than anything resembling mirth. His face contorts slightly in pain as the wound in his stomach pulls and stretches. Arthur takes the last few steps into the room, and practically collapses into the chair at his bedside. Reaching out, he takes one of Merlin's hands, clasping it tightly between both of his, and raises it to his lips. Silence falls over them as Arthur simply lets himself look at the man before him, _alive_ and _awake_ and _breathing_.

"I thought I'd finally lost you for good." He finally says, voice muffled by their hands still pressed to his mouth. Merlin's eyes soften even more.

"You know that I'd never leave you. Not when I have the choice to stay. To come back." Merlin replies, voice quiet. There is something in his tone that seems to be saying something more, but Arthur is too exhausted, and too relieved, to try and read into it more.

They lapse into another silence, and Arthur is suddenly hit with the urge to just crawl onto the small bed with Merlin. To curl up next to him, to feel him warm and pressed up against his side. He resists the urge, knowing that jostling Merlin's wound would only cause him pain. Instead, he lowers one of his hands, stroking it through the silky, black locks messily sticking up from Merlin's head. Merlin closes his eyes and sighs in contentment. A million things rush through Arthur's mind that he wants to say, but for whatever reason, they just don't quite make it to his mouth. He could never properly voice his relief at having Merlin back. Whole and alive.

A soft snore pulls Arthur from his thoughts. Blinking down at Merlin, he sees that the man has fallen asleep. He smiles slightly as he looks down at his relaxed face. Leaning down, he presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, then he carefully lays his hand down next to him, and gets to his feet. Glancing back, he lets his eyes roam over Merlin laying in bed. He watches his chest rise and fall a few times before opening the door and stepping out. Gaius looks up at him as he slowly closes the door behind him.

"He fell asleep." He says, and Gaius nods knowingly. "Have him brought to my chambers once he is well enough to be moved. The softer bed could be more restful for him."

"Of course, Sire." Gaius replies. "He should be able to move in a day or two." He adds. Arthur is acutely aware that the physician can no doubt see through his pathetic excuses for moving Merlin. He won't openly admit to merely wanting Merlin to be close, but he isn't fool enough to not realize that is the true motivation behind his orders. He nods once, then leaves. After all, he still had mountains of paperwork to sift through.

~~~

As expected, Merlin is well enough to move back into the King's chambers a day and a half later. He grumbles a bit about not needing to be coddled, but relaxes soon enough after Arthur tugs his boots off and crawls into bed with him. The warlock leans heavily into his king as Arthur once again starts to run his fingers through his hair. He'd had his hands full over the last day and a half, and so hadn't had the time to go see Merlin since his first visit. He craved the comfort he always got from sharing physical contact with the man he loved.

"After I... after everything that happened with that man, Nathaniel was it? What happened after that?" Merlin asks, eyes closed.

Arthur purses his lips. He knew that Merlin would want to discuss what happened after Nathaniel had... had _killed_ him, but Arthur found himself reluctant to talk about it. Even though Merlin was okay, even though he was right here in his arms, he could still feel the remnants of grief and pain from that short moment when he thought he had lost him.

"Arthur?" Merlin asks after the prolonged silence continues. He opens his eyes and pulls away, wriggling around carefully so he can see him properly.

A long, hesitant breath leaves the King before he resigns himself to having this conversation. "After you... what you said to Nathaniel, about protecting the city, you were right. I've never seen anything like it. Roots came up from the ground, holes opened up under bandits' feet, even birds and insects came in to protect the city and the people. You saved the city, and basically everyone in it. Without your magic, we would have lost a lot more lives. As it is, we somehow got away mostly with injuries, a few casualties, but those aren't your fault. I don't want to hear you blaming yourself for something you can't control. Sometimes bad things just happen."

Merlin bites his lip, and looks away. Arthur can tell that he doesn't agree, but he doesn't argue the point. They have to start somewhere, and not fighting about it is as good a place as any to begin the journey of acceptance. Not everything bad that happens in Camelot is Merlin's fault. Somehow, Arthur is going to make him see and believe that.

"What about the men who attacked?" Merlin asks in a quiet voice. Arthur cringes a bit. He knows how much his warlock hates violence.

"Some of them still fought back, even as your magic arose to help. Others escaped. I'm not entirely sure how, but they did. The rest were detained in the dungeons and awaited sentencing. I gave them all an offer: to leave the kingdom, to return on penalty of death. Some took it, others didn't." He shrugs, knowing that Merlin will be able to pick up the unspoken words himself. Sure enough, the man nods, eyes downcast.

"And Nathaniel? What became of him?" Merlin's question makes the King remember his fury at the man, and even now, he feels the heat of his anger bubble to life slightly.

"Nathaniel is gone. He committed treason, and therefore could not be trusted. He refused to back down, so I ran him through." Arthur replies emotionlessly. He can still clearly see the man's eyes widen with pain and fear, before his body slumped to the ground. He blinks out of the memory, only to meet Merlin's eyes. He can see that Merlin knows the other reason that the man died in that moment, that he never got a trial. He had hurt Merlin, took away something that Arthur loved, and for that, he had to be punished.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." Merlin says softly. Arthur's eyebrows pinch together in confusion.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Merlin. You saved my city, my people. You proved to everyone that you have nothing but purity in your soul. There is nothing to apologize for," He replies solemnly.

Merlin cracks a crooked, wry smile. "I'm sorry because I hurt you. Again. Since coming to Camelot, it has been my destiny to protect you, to keep you safe. You should never be put in danger because of me, and I'm sorry that you have been."

Arthur shakes his head. "Nonsense, Merlin. Don't apologize for things that are out of your control. You have kept me safe. You're always going on about how you keep saving my royal backside." Merlin smiles at that, and Arthur takes it as a victory. "I am still here, as King of Camelot, because of _you_ , Merlin. Now come here."

Merlin hesitates for a moment before shifting back into Arthur's open and waiting arms. He sighs as he settles into the King's warmth. Arthur presses a kiss to the side of his head, nose buried in the warlock's black locks. He needed a haircut. The strands were getting long enough that they were starting to curl around his easily recognizable ears. He closes his eyes, content to just breathe Merlin in. A part of him was still scared that this was all a dream. That he was going to wake up and Merlin would still be lost to him.

The man in his arms sighs again, and slumps heavier into his arms, and Arthur realizes that he's well on his way to falling asleep. He shuffles out of the bed, making Merlin grumble and open his eyes, staring accusingly. Arthur huffs a laugh, and smooths his hair back.

"Get some rest, Merlin. As much as I'd love to stay in bed with you, I am king, and my schedule simply doesn't allow it." Arthur says quietly, a teasing quality to his voice. Merlin scrunches up his nose slightly, and Arthur melts.

"Prat." Merlin mutters before closing his eyes again. Arthur smiles at him fondly before pulling the blankets up around him, and pressing another kiss to Merlin's forehead. The man has a small smile on his lips as he pulls away. He gives his warlock one last fond smile before straightening up and crossing the room to the door. He hadn't been lying about having other duties to take care off. He was the king, after all.

~~~

Merlin can feel himself grow stronger every day. Arthur still hovers by his side whenever he is around, but Merlin finds that it doesn't annoy him as much as it used to. In a way, he knows how Arthur feels. There had been countless times over the many years they had known each other, that he had seen Arthur get hurt. He remembered the fear after the Prince had been bitten by the Questing Beast, and the power of his relief when he had ended up okay. Life was a fragile thing. He wouldn't fault Arthur for wanting to make sure that he stayed alive.

As his power grew, and his magic replenished itself, the wound in his stomach healed. Eventually, it got to the point where there was only a scar. A simple reminder of what had happened, what he had sacrificed the save the people he loved and cared for. Arthur still fussed over it. He had insisted on spreading a salve over it that Gaius had given him to help with the continued healing of old wounds. Merlin didn't so much care. It was hardly his first scar, and he very much doubted that it would be his last. His past experiences as Arthur's manservant wouldn't allow him to slip into a false sense of security. Camelot may be safe for now, but someone would attack again at some point. It was unavoidable.

Much to his chagrin, Gaius still had him ordered to bed rest. An order that the king took very seriously. Honestly, how many times had he had to perform his duties as Arthur's manservant with worse injuries that this? He was healed now. He was fine. They told him that they didn't want him to take unnecessary risks. He merely rolled his eyes. He wasn't going to stay sitting in bed for much longer, and Arthur could clearly see that.

"Arthur." He says, trying to sound casual as he watches David dress Arthur for training.

"Yes, Merlin?" Arthur replies, already sounding resigned. Merlin has to hold back a snort of laughter.

"Can I come with you? It'd be nice to see everyone." He asks. Before Arthur can object, he adds, "I'm sure that getting out into the fresh air and sunshine will be beneficial for my health. In fact, I know it will be."

Arthur's mouth is still open, words poised to tumble out, but when he sees Merlin's hopeful face, he swallows them down. He had admittedly been doing much better lately, and it had surely been long enough since his injury that he should be okay. The King could only imagine how stir crazy Merlin must be getting, being stuck up here to rest for so long.

"Okay, fine." He acquiesces. "But you have to promise me that you'll take it easy."

Merlin rolls his eyes, giving his king a sunny smile. "What exactly are you expecting me to do? Pick up a sword and join you?" A tug on Arthur's lips follows Merlin's retort, and Merlin's grin only grows wider. "I promise I will stay out of trouble. I'll just sit there and watch, and cheer if any of the knights overpower you."

Arthur barks out a laugh. " _Mer_ lin. I'm the king. I'm supposed to be the best swordsman in the kingdom."

Merlin shrugs innocently. "Something needs to be done to keep your head in check. If we do nothing, it'll grow too big and your crown won't fit."

The King lets out another surprised laugh. "It's good to see you're feeling back to your old self. Though, I can see how Gaius is right. It truly is a miracle how you've kept your head on your shoulders for this long."

"Hmmm." Merlin pretends to think. "I think it might have something to do with the fact that you love me."

The King seems to soften at that, nodding at David as he does up the last buckle. Retrieving his helmet and sword, he approaches Merlin, stopping just in front of him. His eyes are shining with something that Merlin can't quite place in that moment, but it makes his insides flutter madly all the same. He's only half expecting it when Arthur leans closer and presses their lips together, so he takes a moment to respond, only getting the chance to kiss back for a second or two before Arthur pulls away.

"You're right." He says, a little self-consciously with David still in the room. "I do love you."

Even after all the times that Arthur had uttered those words, they still manage to make Merlin smile like an idiot, and feel all fuzzy inside. "I love you, too." He replies softly, knowing that the King would appreciate the vague semblance of privacy that his quieter tone would provide. Sure enough, Arthur's cheeks flush a delicate pink as he bites back a smile.

"Right, well, let's get going. Don't want to keep everyone waiting longer than we need to." Arthur announces, and Merlin bites back his smile a bit. To anyone else, the King's reply would've seemed gruff, almost like a rebuttal, but Merlin knows better. He knows that his years with his father made it difficult for him to fully display his emotions, to appear vulnerable, when in the presence of others. He was trying, and Merlin certainly wasn't going to make him feel bad about it.

The trip down to the training grounds takes maybe a little longer than it usually would've, and Merlin doesn't miss the worried glances that Arthur sends his way. He ignores them, continuing on with his conversation about nothing, really. Arthur relaxes a bit, joining in, and by the time they make it outside, they're both laughing.

"Look who was finally let out to play." A voice calls out as they approach. Before Merlin can reply, he's being gathered up into a pair of familiar arms and being squeezed tightly in a hug.

"Hey, Gwaine." He says, hugging back readily.

"Let him breathe, Gwaine." Arthur gripes warningly from beside them, and Gwaine lets Merlin go with a laugh.

"Overprotective as always, eh Princess?" He jokes, earning himself a rather nasty glare. "It's good to see you up and around, Merlin. You gave us all a scare."

Merlin grimaces. "I know, and I'm sorry."

"Forget it." The knight replies, ruffling his hair fondly. Merlin futilely tries to duck away, before resigning himself to his fate. He receives similar welcomes from most of the other knights. The ones he knew well, anyway. He hadn't fully realized just how much he had missed them until he got to see them again. Something loosens in his chest as he notices that not one of these men held even a shred of fear in their eyes when they looked at him. In fact, they looked nothing but grateful and relieved.

"Okay, that's enough!" Arthur says. "We came here to train, not fawn over Merlin. Let's get to it." All the knights share knowing looks. It was well known throughout the city that Arthur could get a bit possessive over Merlin at times.

As the knights head off, Merlin meets Arthur's eyes. "Go easy on them today. You might be jealous, but they're just happy to see me." He can't help but grin as the King splutters indignantly.

"I am not _jealous, Mer_ lin." He says lowly, trying to sound threatening, but falling miles short of his goal.

Merlin grins. "Whatever you say." Reaching out, he takes one of Arthur's hands in his, and squeezes it firmly. "Just so you know, you have nothing to be jealous about. They all know who my heart already belongs to, and it's certainly not one of them."

Arthur's whole demeanour softens at Merlin's reassurances. Despite all his bravery and nobility, he had his moments of insecurity. Maybe even some more than others. The King smiles at him, small and vulnerable. Merlin's heart flutters madly at the sight of it. That feeling soon turns to dread as Arthur's smile turns devious and cheeky. With a final squeeze, Arthur pulls his hand from Merlin's and moves to follow his knights.

In a last ditch effort to prevent Gaius getting swarmed with requests for bruising balm, he shouts, "I mean it, Arthur! I didn't come all the way out here just to watch you try to show off and impress me!"

Arthur shoots him a grin over his shoulder, and Merlin knows it's a lost cause. Still, he can't help but smile as he settles down on a bench to watch. The sun overhead is warm on his skin, and the slight breeze ruffles his hair, which is slowly becoming a bit unruly. Perhaps he should cut it. Birdsong in the air envelopes him, along with the distant chatter of people going about their business. There had been no ill will sent his way since he awoke. Maybe things would turn out okay after all. Maybe those events he saw in the crystal could still become truth.

A sudden shout pulls his attention back to the field. "Merlin! Get over here and control your Princess!" Merlin laughs as he watches Arthur glare and swing at Gwaine even harder.


	11. Chapter 11

The air in the room is warm, barely combatted by the open window. The pair in bed have the bed linens pooled down by their waists, tangled around their legs, but they're still covered in a sheen of sweat. Despite the heat, they lie together, the dark haired one curled into the side of the blond. A lazy arm is thrown around the paler man's shoulders, holding him in place as he idly draws imaginary shapes on the toned chest he's lying on with the tips of his fingers. He's pliant and sated, smiling softly despite the uncomfortable sticky quality to their skin.

"Merlin." Arthur murmurs. There's been something he has wanted to talk to the warlock about for the past few weeks, ever since the easily thwarted attack on the city. Various duties have kept him away from speaking his mind. That, and also an inexplicable unease that he feels, like somehow he knows that this particular topic could end in an argument. He's wanted to avoid such an eventuality.

"Hmm?" Merlin hums in reply, too worn out to properly speak. The King's hands smoothly running over the bare skin of his shoulders and arm is nearly putting him to sleep.

The King swallows, then says, "There is something I've been wanting to discuss with you. I value your opinion, and I would like to hear your thoughts before I bring the matter up with the council."

Reluctantly, Merlin blinks out of his haze and focuses on the man beside him fully. "And what is that?" He queries.

A pause follows, before Arthur says, "I know that you are going to argue with me, but for a minute, I want you to look at this objectively, not just at my safety."

Merlin frowns. "Arthur, what is it?"

Arthur meets Merlin's eyes and says, "I want to remove the ban on magic. I want to legalize it."

Immediately, Merlin sits up, all prior exhaustion forgotten. "Arthur, you know that's a bad idea." The man says, just like Arthur had known he would.

Heaving a sigh, he sits up to face Merlon properly again. "Merlin, what did I just say? Look at this objectively. Please, just humour me."

Merlin purses his lips, for all the world looking like a disapproving parent. Arthur merely looks back. He is the King, and his word is final. Whatever he decides to do, will ultimately be done in the end. Merlin's objections, although taken into account, can he ignored. Merlin knows this.

"Okay, fine." Merlin grunts, waving a hand to urge Arthur to continue. Reaching out, Arthur seizes that hand and holds it between his own. He stares down at it as he runs his fingertips over Merlin's knuckles.

"My father banned magic because he only ever saw the evil in it." Arthur starts. "I was raised to believe the same. It is true that I have seen my fair share of destruction at magic's hands, but I have also witnessed the same by ordinary men with sword and shield. I do not believe that a tool can be inherently evil. It is the thirst for power that corrupts minds, not the weaponry one has at their disposal that makes them evil or not." He stops here to try to collect his thoughts.

Turning his gaze up to Merlin's face, instead of his hand, he continues. "You have shown me the beauty of magic. The purity of it. You are said to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world, and yet here you are. You have the means to destroy all that my father left behind, and you don't. You choose to love and protect. There is no evil in that, despite the power coursing through your veins."

At this, Merlin frowns. "Arthur, you know that I would never knowingly and willingly hurt you."

A soft smile pulls at the King's lips. "I know, and that is exactly what I mean. Despite the way your kind has been viewed, and treated, you have no ill will in your heart. All you want is for Camelot to thrive. I believe that there are many more out there who possess magic who feel the same way, but they live in fear. You do not punish a good man simply because another is wicked."

Silence falls between them, but only for a moment. "The ban your father put in place, the executions, they've only served to make those with magic lash out. The people of Camelot have witnessed too much hurt and damage due to magic, and very little good. How could they ever consent to a repeal of the ban on magic?"

This was a dilemma that Arthur had already been going over in his brain. He knew, with his whole heart, that removing the ban was the right thing to do. Too many innocent people had been killed. He had vowed to protect the people and his kingdom. Did that not include protecting them from his own late father? Yes, magic could he used to harm, but so could a bow and arrow. So could a sword. So could a man who only had his own fists as a weapon.

"It will have to be done slowly." Arthur muses out loud. "You are right, Merlin. Too much hatred and damage has been caused, due to my father's short-sightedness. There is fear and distrust toward magic. It will take time to convince the people that they are safe with magic in their midst."

For the first time since the start of their conversation, Merlin looks almost excited. It warms Arthur's heart to see the old sparkle back in his eyes. It had been a long time since Merlin had looked forward to anything. He had spent so long agonizing over what had happened. He had blamed himself, even when he had only been trying to save Arthur's life. The guilt of that had weighed on the King too. Maybe now, they could both start on their journey to healing and shedding the past forever.

"The druids I permitted to live in the city have been accepted well. They are treated fairly, and equally, despite the knowledge of the magic they possess. This gives me hope. Perhaps the people are ready for the reintegration of magic into society. What remains is to figure out how to do it, what rules will be put in place, and what punishments will remain for those who abuse the privilege of magic."

Merlin stares at him in wonderment. "You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?"

The King's eyes soften as he looks over the warlock's face. "I've been thinking about it ever since I became king. I had disagreed with my father about the blanket ban on magic for a while, even if my actions did not show it. I became more serious about it after you left Camelot. At that point, I knew it would take time. People had lost their homes, some had lost their loved ones, to magic. To a curse that you had very little control over. At first, they did not understand that. I was willing to wait. I think that wait may be coming to an end."

He only just finishes speaking when Merlin surges forward, capturing the King's lips with his own. Arthur readily accepts it, arms winding around Merlin's waist to pull him closer. Merlin's hands sink into Arthur's hair, tugging just enough to make Arthur growl softly into the man's mouth. When they break apart, they're both panting a bit, and Merlin's eyes look shiny and glassy.

"You're doing all of this for me?" He asks.

"I'm doing this for everyone with magic. So that an entire group of people has the same freedoms and judgements as everyone else." Arthur replies. "However, I would be lying if I said that you were never at the forefront of my mind as I made my decision."

Merlin's eyes flick between both of Arthur's for a moment before he says, "Are you absolutely sure about this? It could be risky. In fact, it _will_ be risky. It's one thing to turn a blind eye to a handful of druids. It's another to openly welcome magic back into the kingdom."

"I understand your concerns, Merlin, but I know that this is the right thing to do. I have faith in my people, that they will be accepting. Done right, I believe that this could be a very good thing for everyone. No more fear of persecution for simply being the way you are. Some people don't have control over the way they are born, or how they were raised. It is my duty to be their voice."

Merlin grins again, leaning closer to seal their lips together. Arthur sighs into the embrace, letting Merlin's warmth rush over him. Strong, and very insistent, hands push on his shoulders, urging him to lie back down amongst the plush pillows. He does as he's told, hands on Merlin's waist pulling him down as well. The warlock settles over him, arms bracketed on either side of the King's head and holding him up. Still, the press of bare skin on bare skin makes Arthur groan. He feels Merlin grin against his lips, and he knows, then and there, that calling for a council meeting will be put off for a little while longer.

~~~

Arthur blinks back his looming headache ineffectually. He had called the council to convene at the Round Table. He had been there first, Merlin hovering at the outskirts by the wall, as he still refused to take a seat beside the King. Arthur would have to change that at the first opportunity. He had started the meeting with the usual greetings, then dove right into business. All he had said was he planned to lift the ban, and now everyone was talking all at once. And they had been for nearing half an hour.

Merlin catches Arthur's eyes as the King glances his way, and he grimaces. Arthur widens his eyes and nods in agreement. He was nearly done listening to his men squabble amongst themselves. Some, the ones closest to Merlin and Arthur himself, were arguing the merits of lifting the ban. The older men, the ones who had served longer under his father, were protesting that they were destroying a well placed law made by a great former king. Arthur just wanted to yell at all of them to _shut up_. Eventually, when he had, had enough, he gets to his feet, the action alone calling silence over the whole table.

"Gentlemen," he says loudly, "I did not call you all here so we could fight, and be at each other's throats. My decision to lift the ban is final. I am not here to have any of you try to change my mind. My resolve is unshakable." He looks around at the men surrounding him, all looking at him with full attention. "This council has been convened so we can discuss the best course of action to attain that goal."

When no one immediately breaks out into yelling or arguments again, he slowly sits back down, gesturing to the table as a whole to discuss. Silence follows, however, all eyes flickering around the room to assess the others. Looking for weakness, or looking for ideas, Arthur is not sure. He is about to grit his teeth in frustration and just call it a day when Sir Leon stands up.

"Leon." He says, disguising his breathe of relief. "What do you have in mind?"

"Sire, I believe that simply lifting the ban will be too much, even if we agonize over laws and regulations for months. The people will push back. If this is to be done correctly, we have to take it in small steps, spread out over a length of time."

Arthur nods. "My thoughts exactly. Too much, too soon, could leave the people feeling vulnerable." He pauses to lock eyes with the man, trying to read if Leon had a suggestion. When he feels confident that he does, he gestures for him to continue, adding, "What do you suggest as a first step?"

"Before it is fully legalized, it should be decriminalized. That way it is not encouraged to be openly used in the street, but those who use it to increase their quality of life in private no longer have to live in fear."

Arthur nods, but before he can voice his agreement, an older councilman stands up. "Even that is too much, too soon. All these people have known for decades is to fear magic. Though this may be a good step, it is still too far along to be the first one."

The King considers the man for a moment before replying, "What do you suggest as a better first step, Carac?"

The man inclines his head respectfully. "I suggest to first remove the automatic death penalty for using magic."

Arthur cocks his head to the side. "That would seem a logical first step. Explain."

Carac looks around at the other council members before focusing back on the King. "Right now, anyone convicted of using magic, or even suspected of using magic, is to be condemned to death. I know that you have not exactly enforced this, but to the people, this is common knowledge. It incites fear, and almost hatred. To begin easing these feelings, this must first be changed."

"What do you propose in it's stead?" Leon asks curiously. Carac looks at him.

"Give everyone convicted of sorcery a fair trial, just as every other criminal gets." He says. Again, Arthur nods.

"What is to stop people from assuming that the trial is merely for show? How are they to know that a certain death penalty does not still await them?" He asks.

Carac glances around the room again. "Those found guilty, with sufficient evidence, of using dark magic, with the intent to do harm, can still face a death penalty. Others, who may be convicted of magic, and are proven to be sorcerers, but have no intention to hurt anyone, can merely face a fine."

At this, Leon frowns. "For many, they have no money. To be forced to pay something like that _would_ be a death sentence for them."

Carac nods. "For those who cannot pay with coin, they can pay with time. They can do jobs around the city, in the name of the Crown and the Royal Household, but receive no monetary compensation for it. After an allotted amount of time, they are free to go. These hours can even be split up over several days, to ensure they can still work and gain a little money on the side during their punishment."

The King once again meets Merlin's eyes. "A fine." He says, contemplatively. "So there is still a punishment for using magic while it's illegal, but it's not as harsh as the current punishment."

The councilman nods. "Yes, Sire. The severity of the fine can be based on the severity of the crime. More serious magic used is faced with a larger fine than smaller magic used."

Arthur doesn't miss the say that Merlin flinches at the word _crime_. Still, Arthur has to admit that the suggestion is a good one. He is not naïve enough to think that magic can be legalized overnight. Steps must be taken to help the people become used to the idea. Perhaps removal of the immediate threat of execution is the right first step. Arthur never liked the idea of putting people to death without a fair trial where they could try to defend themselves. This would give everyone that chance.

He glances at Merlin one more time before addressing the council. "I think this could be a logical first step. From there, we can look at ways of decriminalizing magic, as Sir Leon suggested. Does anyone else have anything to add?"

Again, all eyes around the table flick between each other, but no one speaks up. The King nods, hoping that this is a good thing. He gets to his feet, pulling all the attention in the room back to him. He stays silent for a moment, merely looking at each person in the room, and trying to read from their facial expressions, from their eyes, how they all feel about this. He meets no open hostility. He'll take it for now.

"I believe we made progress today. Hopefully we are all in agreement on our first steps from here. Let's disband for today, and reconvene in two days from now. I want all of you to come up with concerns and solutions to those concerns. If we are to do this, we must think of everything."

The men around the table all nod, getting to their feet and preparing to leave when he dismisses them. Arthur turns to Merlin as everyone else makes their exits. Pushing off from the wall, the warlock approaches him.

"So, you're doing this." Merlin says. Arthur frowns at his words.

"Yes. I told you this morning I was going to." He replies.

Merlin shrugs. "There's a difference between words and actions. Although, I've never known you to have hollow words. You've always followed through with what you say you will do. That's what makes you such an honourable king."

Arthur reaches out, taking Merlin's hands in his own. "I hope that I can rely on your council through this process as well. You know more about magic than I could ever hope to learn. You will think of things that no one else will."

Merlin smiles. "You have my support, Arthur. Of course you do." He replies.

"I want more than just support, Merlin." Arthur says. "I want you to sit beside me during council meetings. I want you openly involved. Your expertise is invaluable, Merlin. I can promise that you will receive nothing but respect from my fellow men."

"I don't know, Arthur." Merlin fidgets, averting his gaze.

"How is the council supposed to trust my judgement on the matter when I don't appear to trust the only known sorcerer in our midst?" Arthur counters. "I am not asking you to sit on council indefinitely. Just until magic is legalized properly in the kingdom. That is all I ask. At that point in time, you can reevaluate where you want to be."

Merlin chews on his lip uncertainly, and Arthur practically holds his breath as he watches. He desperately wants Merlin to say yes. By giving him a voice, he will also be giving him respect. Not that he isn't already respected. After the events of the previous weeks, most people in Camelot now saw Merlin in a new light. He was currently the hero that helped save the city, and most of the people. He just didn't see it.

"Please, Merlin." He says, well aware that he is now begging the man he loves to accept the offer, but finding that he doesn't really care.

Finally, Merlin relents. "Fine. But only until magic is legalized. There's no guarantee that anyone will listen to me, anyway."

Arthur smiles fondly. How wrongly disillusioned this beautiful man was. " _I_ will listen to you. If the others do not, then they will listen to me."

His warlock still seems unconvinced, so he leans closer and gives him a chaste kiss. Merlin is smiling, despite his best efforts not to, as they slowly pull apart. Arthur is pretty sure that Merlin's smile is his favourite sight in the world. The man had the ability to light up entire rooms with his smile alone, and he didn't even really know it. Merlin was special, and Arthur was hoping that a temporary seat on council would finally convince him of that.

~~~

Arthur was exhausted. The past couple weeks had been taken up with daily council meetings, discussing how to proceed. When he wasn't in open discussions with his council, he was dealing with his other duties as king. He still saw petitioners from both the city and the outlying villages. He still concerned himself with grain reports, and news from the regular patrols sent out throughout the kingdom. In his spare time, he sat at his desk and looked over the future laws for the legalization of magic. Despite that eventuality still being months, if not years, away, he wanted to be prepared.

A throat clearing makes him looks up, an he smiles when he sees Merlin settling a tray of food down on the table. "I wasn't aware there had been a staffing change, Merlin. Missing your old job enough to take it back from David?"

Merlin snorts a laugh. "You mean do I miss having things thrown at my head?" He asks teasingly. "Unarguably no."

A laugh bubbles up past Arthur's mouth as Merlin rounds the table and approaches him. "Then what is all this about?"

Merlin steps into Arthur's outstretched arms as he says, "I knew you probably wouldn't eat unless I forced you to. I also knew that you probably won't be going to bed any time soon, so I gave David the night off. For this evening, it looks like you have your old manservant back."

Arthur grins as he pulls Merlin closer by tightening his hold around the man's waist. "I think I'm okay with that. It means no interruptions."

Merlin turns his head, so Arthur's lips catch his cheek instead. "No. You've been working yourself to the bone these past couple weeks. I want you to take the evening off, and have a proper meal. We can't have the king wasting away to nothing."

If asked, Arthur would deny all knowledge of pouting in that moment, but pout he does. Merlin chuckles, relenting just enough to press their lips together for a second or two. When Arthur inevitably chases his lips when he pulls away, he places a hand on the King's chest and pushes him away.

"Maybe later." He murmurs, eyes sparkling with amusement. "For now, you need to eat."

Arthur scowls at being told what to do, but he lets Merlin take his hand and lead him across the short distance to the table. He obediently sinks down into his chair, eyes following Merlin as the man rounds the table to sit across from him. When Arthur looks down at the tray properly for the first time, he frowns in confusion.

"Uh, Merlin," he says, "there is only one plate here." He gets another cheeky grin in reply.

"Yeah, I figured if it was going to be like old times, we may as well go all out. I told the kitchen staff to just load the plate up." Merlin says. Arthur's confusion soon clears when Merlin reaches over and plucks a bread roll off his plate.

"Ah." Arthur says, nodding his head once. "I see. You always were a little thief at meals, weren't you? I especially liked feasts, watching you squirm while being unable to snag things from my plate."

Merlin sticks his tongue out, taking another bite from his bread. Arthur laughs, and immediately feels most of his stress leave his body. His shoulders relax, and his jaw softens. He hadn't even realized that he _had_ been clenching his teeth for the past several hours. He watches Merlin reach over and steal some chicken from his plate, and his heart flutters in his chest. He finds that odd, that such an action from the man could produce such a reaction in him. He knew that he loved the man sitting across from him. Dearly.

"Eat, Arthur." Merlin's stern voice pulls him out of his reverie. "Eat, or I'll come over there and shove it down your throat. I was only half joking about you wasting away to nothing. You need to take time for yourself."

With a good-natured glare, Arthur grabs his own piece of chicken and takes a bite. As usual, the quality is good, the flavours plentiful enough. He closes his eyes and sighs in contentment. Yes, he has a lot on his plate, and they have a long journey ahead, but he knows that the final destination will be worth it. For Merlin to finally be free, will undoubtedly be worth it. A sudden thought strikes him as he goes to take another bite.

"Actually, Merlin, I wanted your input on a title." He says. Merlin raises his eyebrows, looking too much like Gaius for Arthur's current sanity.

"You're already the king. What more do you want?" Merlin asks teasingly.

"No." Arthur says, settling an unimpressed looks in Merlin's direction. "I mean a title for you, for after magic is fully legalized." Merlin cocks his head to the side, silently urging him on. "I'm thinking either Court Sorcerer, or Royal Consort."

Merlin looks stunned. "Did you just-"

Arthur smiles softly at him. "Yes, Merlin, I did. But, in case you don't believe me, when the time comes, will you marry me?"

A shocked silence follows before Merlin finally seems to regain the ability to talk, blurting out, "Yes! You prat, why couldn't you have picked a better moment? I was hungry."

"You were hun-" The rest of his sentence gets cut off as Merlin pushes the tray aside, somehow managing not to spill anything, and lunges across the table. Upon reaching Arthur, he promptly climbs into his lap, curls his fingers into the King's hair, and kisses him soundly on the mouth. Arthur desperately tries to hold back his groan of approval, but it still slips out. Merlin practically swallows it greedily, pressing impossibly closer. Arthur's hands on his hips aid in the movement. All thoughts of a hot dinner get forgotten as Merlin pulls back, climbs to his feet, and manhandles the King to the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is a wrap, on not only this work, but the series as a whole. I just want to thank everyone who has come on this wild ride with me, and stuck by me and I take horrible liberties with my writing lol. All your reads, kudos, and comments mean the world to me, and I love and appreciate each and every one of you!! (And if you haven't already, be sure to follow me on Tumblr: @messandahalf10)


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